And the Beat Goes On
by Queen Angelblood
Summary: [Revised]Naruto always knew high school was going to be a living hell, but lately, things have taken a turn for the worse. . .[Epilogue]
1. Piano Solo

(Author's Note: The administrators of the site removed this story. Anyone who wants the full story on that can contact me via the e-mail in my profile page. I've revised the text. I'll work as fast as I can to get the chapters re-posted. I hope you all continue to read, and enjoy the story! Please remember to review. I won't be replying to reviews, so if you have a question you want answered, please leave an e-mail address (anonymous reviewers) or login.

Enjoy the story!)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 1: Piano Solo

Uzumaki Naruto moved his pencil back and forth across his paper, bored. He wasn't five minutes into his lesson and already, he was bored beyond belief.

The teacher droned on and on and on. . .The monotone words buzzed about his brain like a fly and he wished he could swat them away.

The room was unbearably hot. Outside, a soft September breeze blew and the sun shone bright, warm and inviting. Naruto wished he could be outside. A butterfly drifted lazily by the window and out of sight. He sighed and turned his attention back to his paper. At least he wasn't the only one not paying attention today.

It was science class, the last class of the day and by this point, everyone was just waiting, counting down the seconds till the bell would ring and they'd be free. He looked at what he'd managed to scribble on his page without even thinking. It read, " I love Sakura," several times over, in very sloppy handwriting.

He glanced across the classroom at the pink-haired beauty. She was sitting beside Yamanaka Ino, resting her chin on her hands, her green eyes looking glazed and far away. He wondered what she was thinking about. He didn't have to wonder long as he caught sight of a head full of dark hair and realized she must have been staring at Uchiha Sasuke. It was no secret the girl was infatuated with him.

Naruto gritted his teeth and nearly snapped his pencil in half. He didn't get it! Why did she like Sasuke anyways! He was cold and stuck-up and haughty and - and . . .

The pencil snapped. A couple of kids turned to glance at him and he glanced back down at his paper quickly. After a few moments, he deemed it safe to look up again and glared at the sight of Sasuke.

The Uchiha boy was sitting as still as everyone else, looking decidedly bored. He was supposedly a genius - he got all the top marks in school, but here he was, sitting at the front of the class, not doing any work. Just sitting there. Naruto wanted to punch him.

Then he realized that the aforementioned boy had already filled in all of the blanks. He glanced back at his own sheet. Sure, this was an easy exercise but . . . Weren't they supposed to wait for the teacher to tell them what went in the blanks? He snorted and went back to glaring at his paper. He still didn't see what was so great about Sasuke.

The class dragged on for what seemed like eternity, until, finally, the bell screeched out their liberty and the students of Kohona High flooded out of their classrooms, into the hallways. Naruto wove his way through the crowds, making his way toward the music room.

He peered in the door, then grinned broadly at the sight of a brunet man, sitting at the desk, leaning over some papers. He burst into the room, badly startling the man by screeching, "Iruka!" at the top of his lungs.

The teacher, Umino Iruka, mock-glared at him, holding a finger to his lips and shushing him. "Naruto, don't do that," he said, his eyes smiling at the blond student.

Naruto smiled. "Whatever, Iruka. I was just going to tell you that I was going straight home and-  
"

Iruka's smile dropped. "Oh. You're not going to stay for band practice?"

The blond shook his head. "No, Iruka. I've got a lot of homework and-"

Iruka ruffled Naruto's hair fondly. "Okay, Naruto. But you know, I really would like you to stay and practice with us some time."

Naruto glanced around fretfully, having caught sight of some of the band members filtering into the room, among them, one Uchiha Sasuke. "Sure, sure."

He gave Iruka a brief hug and dashed out of the room, exclaiming, "See you at home!"

Iruka shook his head at the bubbly blond. Naruto was his adopted son, and he really felt that the boy, however bright and bubbly he was, needed to make some friends. As much as he hated to admit it, Naruto was a bit of an outcast and it hurt him to see the boy all alone. Most of Naruto's friends were actually Iruka's friends, and adults at that.

He sighed and stacked his papers before getting up. He walked out of his office, into the actual music room, where the band was setting up. He gazed about at his pupils. He really liked this extra-curricular crap. He felt it gave the students a chance to get to know people who shared the same interests.

He clapped his hands to bring the chattering students' attention to him. "All right everyone. Are we ready to begin?"  
Everyone in the room nodded and Iruka smiled. "All right then. If you'll get out Allegro from Piano Sonata in C. . ."

- - - - - - - - -

Iruka opened the door and walked into the house, slipping off his shoes and shutting the door as quietly as he could. He was home a lot later than he'd expected - an urgent teacher's meeting had been called quite unexpectedly.

He walked into the kitchen. Naruto had already eaten - he could smell the lingering scent of miso ramen on the air. The dishes had been washed, dried and put away. Iruka smiled. Sometimes, Naruto was just too much.

He walked into the living room and stood in the doorway, watching the blond. Naruto was sitting at the piano, playing quite the sad, complicated tune. He'd lit several candles and turned off the lights, "to add effect," as he often claimed.

He watched Naruto play for a while, until the blond hit a wrong note and stopped, glancing up at him sheepishly. He smiled. "Hi, Iruka," he greeted.

"You're really very good, Naruto. I'm sure the band would be glad to have some piano accompaniment," was the brunet's reply.

Naruto blushed and slid off the bench. Iruka had been prodding him for weeks to join the band. He apparently thought it would be good for the blond. "Iruka, I don't really want to. I'm not that good and -"

He stopped himself short, having been about to say, 'the kids don't really like me'. He didn't want to upset Iruka. He glanced up at his caretaker, then looked back at his feet, mumbling, "I'll think about it."

"Thatta boy," Iruka praised, patting the blond on the head affectionately. "Now, go do your homework."

Naruto grumbled something, but plodded out of the room and headed up the stairs. Iruka smiled, the disappeared into the kitchen to get something to eat.

Around eight o'clock, Naruto padded back downstairs, claiming loudly that he was finished his homework. He sat down at the piano and started to play again. Iruka rolled his eyes.

Naruto kept glancing over at him every so often. Finally, he stopped playing and looked at his guardian. "Iruka," he started.

The brunet glanced over at him, ready to give him his full and undivided attention. Naruto slid off the piano bench and walked across the living room to kneel at Iruka's feet. "I. . .I'll join the band," he said softly, looking at the floor to the left of him.

Iruka beamed. "Great! I'm really glad you decided to join us, Naruto. You'll have fun."

Naruto smiled at seeing the older man so happy.

"We practice tomorrow morning, okay, Naruto? You'll be a bit behind, so we'll go in a bit early, okay?"

Naruto nodded, doing his best to seem enthusiastic. "Yeah!"

In the pit of his stomach, he was as nervous as hell. He knew that everybody hated him. He was sure this wasn't going to be fun at all.

- - - - - - - - -

It was well before seven o'clock when Iruka and Naruto arrived at the school. It was dead silent and that creeped Naruto out. He helped Iruka carry his mark books into the music office and turned on the lights, before they headed into the music room.

Iruka took the cover off piano, while Naruto grabbed the piano books off the shelf. The blond seated himself on the bench and cracked his knuckles, earning himself a disproving frown from Iruka.

"I really wish you wouldn't do that. You'll give yourself arthritis," the brunet scolded, moving some of the music stands about the room.

Naruto shrugged and started his warm-up. He went up the scales, and back down them again, then played a couple of short, simple pieces.

He flipped open the music book. "So, which piece are we practising?" he asked, flipping idly through the pages.

"Allegro from Piano Sonata," answered a voice that was most certainly not Iruka's.

Naruto jumped and looked up in surprise. His eyes narrowed as he found one Uchiha Sasuke standing against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching him with mild amusement.

The black-haired boy, realizing he'd been discovered, strode across the room to the piano. "I didn't know you played, dobe," he said.

Naruto hissed. "Don't call me that!"

Sasuke shrugged and took a seat in the front row. He turned his attention to unpacking a assembling his own instrument and his music. After a moment of silence, he glanced up at Naruto. "Please, continue," he said, almost benevolently, then sneered, "I'm sure you need the practice."

Naruto gritted his teeth and counted to ten inside his head. He'd show that jerk! He could play, he could play better than the rest of them! He glanced at the instrument Sasuke was now holding. He blinked. "You play a flute?" he asked, slightly incredulous.

"Yes," Sasuke growled, glaring the 'say any more and die' glare.

Naruto shut up and turned back to his piano. He snickered to himself. Sasuke played the flute! What a girly instrument to play! Of all the instruments in the world, Sasuke played the flute! Naruto frowned when he thought of what Sasuke's fan girls would think of that - that he must be so intense, and so sweet and so sad and lonely. He snorted and glared at his music. The notes had started to blur together.

Iruka walked back into the room, from wherever he had gone. He noticed Sasuke and smiled. "Good morning, Sasuke," he greeted brightly.

"Hnn," Sasuke said in reply and lifted his flute to his lips.

"You've met Naruto, right?"

Sasuke glared up at the teacher, who seemed oblivious. "We've met," he said poisonously.

Iruka was still beaming. "That's good. Naruto's going to be playing the piano for us. Won't that be nice?"

"Hnn. He'll only slow us down," Sasuke said evenly and brought the flute back to his lips.

Iruka frowned. "Now, Sasuke."

The black-haired student forced the flute to make a long, angered noise, almost like a hiss. He opened his ebony eyes and glared at Iruka. The brunet dropped the topic.

Several minutes later, Haruno Sakura and Yamanaka Ino came into the room, bickering loudly. "I'm telling you, the answer is five -"

"I know for a fact, Ino-pig, that it's seven!"

"Five!"

"Seven!"

"Five!"  
"Seven!"

The girls glared at each other, before spotting Sasuke. Then, they burst into giggles and high-  
pitched squeals. Naruto noticed Sasuke wince.

Almost instantly, they were latched on to his arms. "Sasuke," Ino purred, "the answer to question two on last night's math homework was five, right?"

She batted her eyelashes for effect.

Sakura tugged on his other arm. "No, it's not! It's seven! Tell her it was seven, Sasuke," she cooed.

Sasuke kept his eyes closed. "Fifteen. The answer was fifteen," he said, as blandly as ever.

Both girls fell over in surprise. "But of course it was fifteen!" Ino cried. "I only said it was five to confuse Sakura!"

"You liar!" Sakura screeched, pointing an accusing finger at Ino. "You told me the answer was seven so I'd look like a fool in front of Sasuke!"

"Are you calling me a liar, Sakura-big-forehead!"

"Maybe I am, Ino-pig!"

"Yeah, well, at least I don't have a wide forehead!"

"At least I'm not a dumb blonde!"

Naruto huffed at that comment. "Not all blonds are stupid," he muttered and put his elbow down on the piano keys with a loud 'clunk'.

It was then, and only then, that the girls noticed him. "Oy! What are you doing here, Naruto!" they screeched in perfect unison.

Sasuke, who was still sitting in between them winced. Naruto ignored him and grinned broadly. "I'm playing the piano," he said, loudly, hoping to impress Sakura.

Ino snorted. "You? Play piano?"

"He'll ruin us!" Sakura exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Will not!" Naruto shouted defensively.  
"Will you please shut up?" Sasuke asked, one eye closed and teeth gritted, as if he were in pain.

Sakura and Ino glared at Naruto. "Be quiet, idiot! You're hurting poor Sasuke's ears!"

And they went back to fawning over him. Naruto wanted to gag.

The other band members began to trickle in. At seven-thirty sharp, Iruka appeared from where ever he'd been hiding (Sakura and Ino suspected he'd been visiting Hatake Kakashi) and began the practice.

Naruto tripped up about a dozen times over and each time, Iruka made them stop and start again. By the seventh time, everyone was glaring at him. He kept his head down, focussing on the notes, on the keys, trying to ignore the fact that everybody in that room, with maybe the exception of Iruka, hated him at that instant.

Everyone else was so far ahead of him, so wonderful at what they were playing. He didn't allow himself to credit the fact that they'd had much more practice than himself. The string section was mournful; the flutes and clarinets were mysterious and sad; the brass was bold and the drums were perfect. He felt so out of place.

At long last, Iruka dismissed them. The room slowly emptied, leaving Naruto sitting at the piano, staring at the notes, teary-eyed. He felt like such a failure.

Iruka sat down on the bench with him, putting his hands on the blond's shoulders. "Hey, hey, now. Don't cry. You did great."

"No, I didn't," Naruto said miserably, "I screwed up. This was a bad idea."

Iruka frowned. "Don't be so hard on yourself! You just haven't had as much practice as everybody else. You can't expect to get it perfect the first time."

"Maybe," Naruto mumbled, "maybe I'd be better just playing solo at home."

Iruka sighed and patted him on the back. "Buck up, kiddo. It's gonna be okay."

- - - - - - - - -

Naruto trudged to his first class, feeling absolutely rotten. He tried to take Iruka's advice. He'd get better with time, of course and he really did need to be a lot nicer to himself. He wasn't perfect and he knew it. So why did he try so hard to be?

He put on a bright smile. At least they, they being the other band members, were probably talking about him and how horrible he was. At least he was in their thoughts, even if they weren't nice thoughts.  
He meandered into his home room class, just seconds before the bell rang. He plunked down in his seat. The teacher, Tsunade-sensei, glared at him. He shrugged. He wasn't late. He'd been there before the bell. He was ready to point that out to her, if she decided to start an argument. Surprisingly, she didn't.

Instead she clasped her hands and smiled, looking decidedly evil. Naruto felt his stomach drop. That look could only mean one thing. . .

" - major project. This project is worth thirty per cent of your final grade," she said.

Naruto swore she planned this, just to get back at him for all the times he'd called her a hag behind her back.

She had picked up the chalk and was writing on the board, her handwriting sprawling across the width of it. "You will have one week to complete the project. You will work with one other person on part of it. The other half will be done on your own."

Immediately, there was excited chatter amongst the students about who would be partners with whom. Naruto slumped in his seat. He hated assignments, but more than that, he hated group assignments, because everyone always excluded him. They thought he was a dunce and that he couldn't do anything right.

Tsunade slammed a ruler on a desk to get the class to sit back down and be quiet. The ruler snapped in half. "Now, now. I've taken the liberty of assigning you partners." Her eyes glinted evilly.

All the kids groaned. Naruto perked up. Maybe Tsunade would partner him with Sakura! The pink-haired girl would never work with him willingly, but now, maybe he had a chance! Tsunade picked up a piece of paper and started to read off names. "Hinata and Neji will work together."

The entire class winced. Everyone knew how much Neji hated his cousin, Hinata. Hinata sat and twiddled her thumbs, looking down, while Neji glared daggers at the teacher. Tsunade continued regardless. "Lee and Tenten will work together."

Lee's face fell. He wasn't going to be working with Sakura. Tenten's face didn't display disgust or happiness. Tsunade continued down the list. "Sasuke will be working with. . . "

She paused and all the girls who hadn't been paired up yet, including Sakura and Ino, leaned forward listening intently. Tsunade's lips curled up into a positively evil smirk. Naruto shivered. He had a bad feeling about this one. . .

". . . Naruto."

Ah. There was the death knell. He sunk back in his seat, but couldn't avoid the potent glares of Sasuke's fan girls. They were going to beat him into a bloody pulp, he knew they were. Hey, it wasn't as if he chose the list, right? They should have been beating Tsunade. He would have even helped them out. All right, that was it. He wasn't going to take the glaring anymore. This wasn't his fault. He was going to object. He hopped up out of his seat, pointing angrily at Sasuke. "I refuse to work with him!" the blond shouted.

Tsunade turned her withering gaze upon him. "I'm sorry, Naruto. But the list is final."

Oh, somebody up there hated him today. He sank back into his seat, dreading to hear what the actual assignment would be. He hoped it wasn't anything too stupid, or too hard. He didn't want to look like a fool in front of Sasuke. Vaguely, he heard the last set of names called. "Sakura will be working with Ino."

Naruto sighed. He waited for the damned hag to tell them just what exactly they'd be doing for this so-called "major assignment." "Each of you will be dramatizing part of a scene from Romeo and Juliet, which, if you remember correctly, was our play of study. If the scene you're assigned calls for more than two characters, you will be allowed to included a third person in your group. Most, however, should not need a third person."

At this, everyone, once again, began excitedly chattering over which scene they'd perform. "Ahem." Tsunade cleared her throat. "I've also assigned scenes to pairs."

Everyone groaned. Why did their teacher have to be so evil? "Hinata and Neji will perform Act One, Scene One, until Abraham and Balthazar enter the scene." She glanced up at the class. "Make note of this."

Everyone took out a pen and paper and began scribbling things down. When Tsunade told you to do something, you did it. "Lee and Tenten will perform Act One, Scene One from where it says enter Romeo." And she continued forward and onward. "Sasuke and Naruto will be preforming Act One, Scene Two, from where Tybalt exits, 'til the Nurse speaks with Juliet." Hastily, Naruto flipped open his book. Wasn't that. . . Oh, yes. Yes, it was. Oh. Oh no. This was not good. Definitely not good. Very, very bad. This scene had kissing in it. This scene had love and other such things in it. This was not a scene two boys should be preforming! Tsunade had finished giving them scenes now. "It's up to you who plays which character. I want this to be as realistic as possible. Costumes and props are expected, unless your scene doesn't call for props. I want to know that you understand what's going on and why Shakespeare wrote what he did." She began scribbling a mark break-down on the board. Then she turned back to them. "You're not going to have any time in class for preparation, so I suggest you make arrangements to meet with your partner." She was about to continue, when the bell rung, cutting her off. Students stood up, gathered up their stuff and fled the stuffy classroom. "Remember," she hollered after them, "you only have a week to prepare! We begin giving presentations next Wednesday!"

- - - -

TBC.


	2. Emotional Crescendo

(Author's Note: Thanks for the review! Please remember to review if you're reading.

Disclaimer (applies to all chapters): Naruto and all related characters are property of Masashi Kishimoto.

Warning: YAOI, YURI, sex, drugs, violence, rape, etc. etc. The fic is rated 'M' for a reason.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 2: Emotional Crescendo

Science class was, once again, hot, sticky and utterly boring. The fan on the overhead whirred continuously and the curtains had been drawn. It was the perfect atmosphere to encourage the students, even the more academically inclined ones, to give way to the growing feeling of exhaustion.

Naruto tried very hard to keep his bleary eyes open, although they felt very heavy and sandy. He tried to convince himself that the desk didn't make all that great of a pillow, but it wasn't working. The teacher's dull, monotone voice sounded like it had dust in it. Combined with the whirring of the fan, it was like a lullaby.

Naruto glanced about him as best he could without lifting his head. About half the class looked like they _were _asleep, and the other half was on the verge of going there. The teacher kept droning on and on, as if he didn't notice, or he didn't care. Naruto supposed it was the latter. What did it matter to the teacher that half the class failed because they kept falling asleep in class?

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sakura and Ino giggling over something. They kept passing a piece of paper between them, reading it, then writing something down and passing it back to the other, who proceeded to giggle over whatever was written, then write a reply and pass it back for the other girl to giggle over. It was like some sort of. . .weird. . .girl. . .ritual or something. Naruto closed his eyes. He wasn't even thinking clearly any more.

Just as he was about to drift to sleep, the bell rang, shattering the peace of the room and making him bolt upright into a sitting position. He blinked several times over, trying to discern what had happened. Students brushed by him and he realized they'd been dismissed by the loud clanging noise. He sighed, feeling stupid for being startled.

A shadow suddenly eclipsed any light that had been in the room. Everything was rather . . .dark. Naruto looked up. Speaking of dark. . .

Sasuke was glaring down at him. He said nothing, though. "What do you want?" Naruto ground out.

Sasuke looked thoughtful for a moment, as though he were trying to transpose from intelligent language to Naruto's form of 'speech', also known as 'idiot.' "You and I need to work on the assignment," he said at last, somehow not grimacing at the thought of what said assignment involved.

Naruto decided then that Sasuke was not only a bastard and a jerk, but also an ice cube, and not even a human one at that. He was like some other form of life that had been chipped out of a glacier. "Yeah, whatever," Naruto mumbled, feigning indifference.

He rested his head on his arms, only to be prodded roughly in the arm. He glared up at Sasuke. "Unlike you," the dark-haired boy growled, "I want to pass that English course. I'm not going to fail because you can't do your share of the work."

Naruto glared, turned his head to the side and mumbled, "Geez, who died and made you king of the earth?"

Someone cleared their throat and both boys glanced at the doorway, where the teacher was standing. He cleared his throat again and made a gesture. "If you boys wouldn't mind taking this into the hall," he said, as monotone as ever. Naruto wondered briefly if he talked like that all the time.

"Sure, sure, whatever," Naruto muttered, realizing he was the one holding them up.

He picked up his stuff and bolted from the room, hoping to lose Sasuke in the process. Needless to say, it didn't work. Sasuke was standing right beside him when he stopped. Not only was Sasuke annoying, he was also annoyingly persistent. Naruto started walking again, hoping that if he ignored Sasuke, Sasuke would just. . .go away.

Every time he glanced to his right, Sasuke was still there, keeping pace with him, looking as stoic as ever. Naruto halted and turned to the other boy, screaming, "Stop following me, you freak!"

The few girls still lingering in the halls turned to glare at the blond. He ignored them. He was too annoyed to care. He continued to yell at Sasuke. "Leave me alone! I don't care about the stupid project! Go away! I don't want to be stalked, especially not by you!"

"We have to work on the project. I'm not going to fail."

Naruto tore at his hair. "Gah! You didn't hear a word I said, did you! Go! Away! Shoo! Get! Leave!"

"We have to work on the project," Sasuke repeated.

Naruto gave up. "Fine! Whatever! We'll work on the stupid project! Just so long as you leave me alone!"  
Naruto swore he saw Sasuke's lips twitch with the hint of a smirk.

Two hours later, one throughly annoyed, exasperated, angered and down-right irate Naruto was standing in the middle of his bedroom floor, arms folded across his chest. His face was like a storm cloud. Anger snapped in his eyes.

And it wasn't just the fact that Sasuke had pissed him off. Oh no, it went deeper than that. It was worse than that, more humiliating than that. It was that said Sasuke was currently standing there with him, pinning the cloth of the material that was now allegedly a dress. While he was _wearing_ it.

Naruto huffed and Sasuke prodded him again, reminding him that he needed to stay still. Sasuke was currently speech-impaired, as he was holding several needles in his mouth. The ebony-haired boy was currently stitching a red ribbon to the material.

After a lengthy, rather one-sided argument, the conclusion had been reached that Naruto would be playing the part of Juliet. As a result, most of the protesting had been from Naruto, claiming that it wasn't fair and that he didn't want to play a girl.

Not realizing he was pouting, he huffed again, mumbling, "It's not fair."

Sasuke made a rather muffled attempt to say something, which could have been, "Shut up."

Naruto, of course, did the exact opposite, complaining loudly. "It's not fair! How come I have to wear the stupid dress? I don't wanna play Juliet! This assignment is so stupid! I don't wanna wear a dress!"

Sasuke pricked him with one of the needles. "Shut up, idiot," he hissed.

"Why should I listen to you! This is all your fault!"

"My fault? How is this my fault?"

Naruto thought for a moment. It wasn't really Sasuke's fault, but hey, he needed someone to blame and right then, it seemed fitting to blame Sasuke. "It's your fault I'm in this dress!" Naruto screeched.

Sasuke sighed, rolled his eyes, shook his head and went back to his sewing. "Idiot," he grumbled.

Naruto sulked. "This is so dumb. Whoever thought of this project should be shot. Why do I have to work with you?"  
"I have to work with you," Sasuke muttered, prodding Naruto with one of the needles again. "Now, stay still."

Iruka shut the door as gently as he could, not wishing to let it crash and risk waking Naruto (who, by all rights, should have been in bed). Not saying that Naruto was easily woken; Iruka swore that boy could sleep through a tornado.

Nonetheless, he shut the door quietly in the event that Naruto wasn't asleep and would be alerted to the noise downstairs.

Quite honestly, Iruka didn't want Naruto to see him then. He was exuberant, ecstatic and a hundred other things. He was quite sure he was blushing. He probably had a silly grin plastered on his face. He sighed happily and laughed at himself for being so stupid. He was acting like a school girl. Frankly, at the moment, he didn't care.

Why was he in such a state? He'd just spent the evening with Hatake Kakashi. It hadn't really been a date or anything of that nature, but it was more than enough for Iruka. Heck, just being near the man was more than enough for Iruka.

Which was another reason Iruka didn't want to encounter Naruto at the moment. He didn't really want to explain why he was so happy. He wasn't exactly sure how Naruto would react to the idea that he was infatuated with another man. The news could possibly make Naruto alienate him and he didn't want that.

He paused and listened to the house. There wasn't a sound to be heard. He decided to head upstairs and make sure Naruto was still living. The blond wasn't exactly the. . .safest person in the world.

He reached the top of the stairs and opened the door to Naruto's bedroom. He was fully prepared to see Naruto, curled up in his bed, sound asleep. However, he wasn't prepared for what he did see.

Naruto was sitting on the bed, in something that faintly resembled a dress. Not only that, but Uchiha Sasuke was sitting on the bed with him. Both were blushing furiously and pointedly not looking at each other. Between them lay an open copy of "Romeo and Juliet".

Had Iruka been aware of what the boys had been actually trying to accomplish, he wouldn't have been so shocked when Naruto grumbled, "You kiss by the book."

As it were, Iruka nearly had a heart attack. Had Naruto just said! That meant -

"Oh. My. God."

He didn't know why he was so disturbed by this. Perhaps it was the fact that this was Naruto and Sasuke they were talking about? The two were complete opposites and -

Both boys had whipped about to look at him. Naruto had paled visibly, his eyes wide. Sasuke's expression wasn't as openly surprised as Naruto's, but shocked nonetheless.

Naruto began waving his hands about frantically. "This isn't what it looks like!" he yelped, having no idea what Iruka actually thought it looked like, but having a vague guess.

"You. . .you. . ."

"I swear, this isn't -"

"You swing that way!" Iruka managed finally.

"No!" Naruto yelled defensively, waving his hands about frantically, nearly hitting Sasuke in the face.

"You and Sasuke. . .who would have thought -"

"What are you talking about! I'm not -"

Sasuke decided he'd had enough of the seemingly random bits of argument. "We were practising for a play," he said, quietly and rather blandly.

Naruto shut up and looked at him. Iruka looked at him curiously, then smiled slyly and winked. "Sure, boys. Whatever you say."

And with that, he slowly started to shut the door. He quickly reopened it though, glaring at Sasuke. "Don't you dare lay a finger on him, or -"

Iruka wasn't able to finish his threat, for some reason, and quickly shut the door. Naruto buried his head in his hands. "I've never been so humiliated," he groaned.

Sasuke just sort of. . .sat there, like an ice cube of sorts. "Well," he said finally, "that was odd."

Naruto glared at him from between his fingers. "That was odd? That's all you have to say! Not something like, what is wrong with that guy! Is he crazy!"

Sasuke said nothing, but rather looked at the clock, reading the numerals emblazoned in red. "Hnn. I think I'll be leaving now," he said, getting up off the bed.

"Good riddance," Naruto mumbled.

"Not even going to bid your guest goodnight? Hnn. Oh well. It's to be expected," Sasuke said snidely, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

And with that, he fled the room. Naruto sat on his bed, fuming. "Ooooh, I am so going to kill him."

- - -

"And just where have you been?"

Sasuke said nothing, merely walking wearily by his brother. Itachi glared after his younger sibling. "Answer me, Sasuke. It's nearly midnight. Where have you been?"

"At a friend's," Sasuke mumbled at last, turning to glare. "Since when do you care what I do anyway?"

Itachi rolled his eyes. "I don't. It's just not normal for you to stay - Did you say you went to a friend's?"

The older Uchiha blinked in complete surprise. Sasuke sighed and nodded. Itachi frowned. "Since when do you have friends?"

Sasuke glared at him from the stairwell. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed," he growled. Why did Itachi have to be so infuriating?

"Fine. Whatever."

"Good night."

"Good night."

Sasuke climbed the stairs. Itachi yelled after him, "Don't let the bed bugs bite!"

"Shut up!" Sasuke hollered back, storming into his room and slamming the door. Why did Itachi only take interest in what he was doing when he could be annoying?

He sprawled out on the bed, brows furrowed in anger. Itachi never paid any attention to him when he wanted to be paid attention to. It was always, "later" or "not now" or something like that. Itachi never had time for him and it made him mad. They were supposed to be brothers, right? And that made them family. And family looked out for each other.

Especially since the other family members were dead or lived too far away and only called once every couple of years to make sure they were still alive. Sasuke sighed and rolled over, glancing at the picture on his bedside table.

They'd been family there. Both himself and Itachi looked so happy. . .so young and stupid, he thought with a bitter smile. Since their parents had died in that plane crash, both boys had seemingly grown up in too short a time span and become alienated from each other. Sometimes, he wondered if Itachi really was his brother.

Faintly, he heard the sad melancholy of violin music rising from the downstairs. Half of him was tempted to yell at Itachi to shut up, as it was "so late", but the other half of him just wanted to lie there and listen. The music seemed to synchronize with his feelings at the moment, so he lay and listened. In the end, it was the sad tune that lulled him into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Sakura and Ino were still giggling, even though it was long past midnight. Mrs. Yamanaka had been by several times to tell them to be quiet. Every time they managed to settle down, one of them said something and they started laughing all over again.

Wiping tears from their eyes, they settled back into their sleeping bags. They were silent for a moment or two, the occasional giggle escaping their mouths.

Sakura rolled over to face the blonde girl. "Hey, Ino?"

"Yeah. What?"

"How. . .how do you think Sasuke's project is going?"

Ino glanced over at the pink-haired girl. "I don't know. . .he does have to work with Naruto, after all."

Sakura glanced about almost fearfully. "Do. . .do you think he. . ."

She sighed and rolled back over. "Never mind," she muttered.

Ino sat up. "Do I think he what? Honestly Sakura, don't do that."

Sakura sighed again and asked softly, "Do you think. . .he'd like kissing Naruto?"

Ino made a face. "Ew! Sakura! How could you even think that!"

"Well. . .he certainly doesn't seem to think about kissing girls," she said at last.

"He's just shy! And even if he doesn't want to kiss girls, why would he want to kiss boys?" She made her disgusted face again. "Honestly, that's just wrong."

Sakura nodded. "Yes. Yes, it is wrong."

They both started giggling again, out of nervousness, for neither really knew what else to say. And then, their laughter was genuine, for they didn't know what they were laughing about in the first place, which in itself was funny.

The thought of boys kissing boys and liking it was pushed to the very backs of their minds.

The thought of boys kissing boys and liking it, however, wasn't the farthest thing from Naruto's mind.

He had gone to bed about an hour ago, only to toss and turn. His mind was churning with a thousand new ideas and feelings and he wasn't sure how to react. His stomach was tying itself into knots for some reason.

So, Sasuke had kissed him. Big deal. It had just been a quick brush of lips against lips, and that was it. But the thing that scared him was that such a simple action had sent sparks of. . .electric feeling jolting through him. And it shouldn't have. He should have been mad and angry and disgusted, but he wasn't.

Instead, he felt. . .he didn't know how he felt. That was the problem in a nutshell. He knew how he was supposed to feel, but he felt different and he didn't know how he felt. He sighed and turned over again.

Had he liked Sasuke kissing him? He wanted to say he hadn't, but then he'd be lying because he wasn't sure. . . He was chasing himself about in circles now. His head felt all muddled and confused. Did liking the kiss make him. . .well, gay?

He sat up. "Stupid Sasuke," he muttered, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

Unfortunately, he hadn't realized how tangled the sheets had become and consequently, fell flat on his face, taking most of the contents of the bed with him. "Ow," he muttered to the floorboards.

He untangled himself and padded downstairs, his mind still reeling. He'd never been kissed before, so he had nothing to compare this to, had nothing to allow him to make a decision that he did or didn't like it. True, it had felt. . .kind of nice, but then again, kisses were supposed to feel nice, or so he guessed. People wouldn't do it if it hurt.

He made his way into the kitchen, with the intention of getting a glass of water. He stood at the kitchen sink for a long time (it was actually five minutes or so), letting the water run. He wished that his problems could be washed away like that - just disappear down the drain.

He really, really hoped that he didn't like that kiss. He didn't want to be. . .different. Everybody already hated him. What would they think of him if it turned out he had liked that kiss and he liked boys and not girls?

He shook his head. He was pretty sure he didn't like boys, in that manner. After all, he thought Sakura was pretty and she was a girl. He nodded to himself, feeling satisfied he'd come to a conclusion. He liked girls.

He filled a glass with water and turned to leave the kitchen.

But then again, he remembered thinking to himself, on more than one occasion, Sasuke was pretty too, in an odd sort of way.

He wanted to scream. This was all so terribly confusing! He sat down on the cold piano bench, letting his elbow rest on the keys. A loud 'clunk' resulted. The cold from the floor crept up into his feet as he sat there, just thinking.

He sat there for a long time. He was so lost in thought that he didn't realize the clock had long ago struck one and was now striking two. He glanced up at the chiming of the bells, then sighed and padded back upstairs to bed.

In another house, across town, another boy was also wrestling with his emotions. But while Naruto had been contemplating them consciously, Sasuke's turmoil was occurring subconsciously.

Had he been aware he was dreaming, it wouldn't have seemed quite so troubling, but as it were, the dream was terribly realistic and forced him to believe it was actually occurring.

It was a beautiful, summer's day, with a soft breeze and a vaulting blue sky overhead. The sun shone down, warming the creatures below it. He was standing outside, standing in front of a group of people. He recognized a few faces in the crowd. Iruka was sitting in the front row, wiping tears from his eyes with a handkerchief.

He glanced to his left. Someone was standing there, garbed in a puffy, lacy, massive white gown. He couldn't see the person's face, as it was hidden under layers upon layers of white mesh - a veil, he realized. He nearly choked as he realized what was going on. This was a wedding! Immediately, the first person he thought of to be standing beside him was Sakura. Vaguely, he pondered why that was.

Somebody said, in a voice that just oozed evil, "You may kiss the bride."

The priest, or priestess as he realized the voice belonged to Tsunade, then began cackling.

He felt nervousness creep into the pit of his stomach as the bride slowly began to unravel the veil. Who was it? He caught a flash of blonde hair; blue eyes. Was that Ino?

As it turned out, it was none other than Uzumaki Naruto. The short blond smiled up at him shyly, blushing a funny shade of red. So that's why Iruka had been crying.

Sasuke's eyes snapped open. He glanced about his room, his normal, bland, dark room.

It wasn't summer, it wasn't day and he wasn't marrying Naruto. He sighed in relief and sat up. He shook his head to clear the last cobwebbed remains of sleep. "What the hell?" he wondered out loud.

If dreams were honestly a projection of the subconscious, why was he subconsciously thinking about Naruto? And thinking about marrying Naruto nonetheless? He probably subconsciously knew the answer.

Sighing, he chalked it up to an anger-induced nightmare. He rolled over and went back to sleep.

Naruto trudged tiredly into the kitchen, then looked up in shock. Iruka was making breakfast, which was normal. What wasn't normal, however, was seeing Hatake Kakashi sitting at the kitchen table, reading the morning paper. Naruto rubbed his eyes to clear his vision and blinked. Still, the silver-haired teacher sat there.

"What are you doing here!" Naruto yelped, completely baffled.

Kakashi glanced up from the paper and smiled. "Good morning, Naruto," he said cheerfully, avoiding the question.

"What are you doing in my kitchen!" Naruto yelled, pointing an accusing finger at the teacher.

Kakashi looked amused. "Your kitchen? Oh, my mistake. I thought this kitchen belonged to Iruka."

Naruto glared and slumped into one of the chairs, eyeing Kakashi suspiciously. The other shrugged and went back to the newspaper. Things just kept getting weirder and weirder around here. . .

- - -

Naruto sat at the piano, eyeing the arriving band members. So far, Sakura and Ino, along with Hinata had been the only ones to turn up. It was only seven o'clock, though, so there was still plenty of time for the rest to arrive. He glanced at Hinata again. The girl kept looking at him, the turning away shyly. He wondered why.

Iruka was in his office, conversing with Kakashi. Naruto had yet to find out why the silver-haired teacher had been sitting at the table earlier. Naruto was beginning to suspect that Ino and Sakura's hypothesis of a Kakashi-Iruka relationship was all too right.

He glanced up as two more people entered the room. The violinists always arrived at the same time, five minutes after seven o'clock. Said two were conversing quietly as they set up. Naruto wondered briefly if Sasuke knew his brother was. . .err. . .queer. It was pretty obvious to Naruto, who had developed a sort of tact for picking up on these sorts of things. Thus, he concluded that Itachi liked Orochimaru and Orochimaru liked Itachi back. Naruto snickered at the thought of high and mighty Sasuke finding that out. It might have been fairly amusing.

The two were intensely focussed on each other, even as they started warming up. Itachi's eyes never left Orochimaru as he put his bow to the violin strings. It was kind of creepy.

Naruto turned his attention away from them to note Hyuuga Neji and Sasuke enter the room, glaring intensely at each other. It was well known that the two flute players disliked each other. Well, Neji disliked everybody. The only difference here was that Sasuke disliked him back.

They set-up and proceeded to warm up, each trying to best the other by being, faster, louder, more clear. The sad part was that they both messed up at the same time, their notes ending in a terrible, high-pitched squeal that made everyone in the room wince.

An instant later, Rock Lee entered the room, followed by Tenten.

Gradually, the band members trickled in and by seven-thirty, they were set-up and warming up. Iruka seemed to be positively glowing when he entered the room. Naruto wondered what had happened to brighten the teacher's mood. Ino and Sakura started whispering.

All in all, the practice was rather uneventful. Iruka stopped them once or twice to yell at the brass section for being out of sync. Naruto found he made fewer mistakes. Perhaps that was because he'd played the piece. Or it could have been the fact his hands weren't shaking from nervousness.

Practice officially ended at quarter to nine, but students began packing up their instruments and leaving around eighty-thirty. At eight-forty-five, there was nearly nobody left in the room. Iruka had retreated to his office again.

Naruto cracked his knuckles and took the music off the piano. He was kind of glad he didn't have to cart his instrument around with him. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw Sasuke looking at him. The dark-haired boy quickly glanced away, putting the pieces of his instrument back into its case.

Naruto shrugged it off, feeling the confused feelings surrounding the topic of Sasuke start rising up again. He stood up.

"Naruto, I ...uh, wanted to talk to you," Sasuke said quietly.

He sounded nervous. Naruto gritted his teeth. He didn't want to deal with this right now. "If it's about the stupid project, I don't want to hear it," he growled.

"It's not about the project." Sasuke sounded more confident now.

Naruto turned back to face the boy, finding that Sasuke had stood up now. "What is it then?" he said, feeling more agitated by the second.

"I...uh..." Sasuke fumbled for a moment, and then, in a completely unexpected move, grabbed Naruto's chin, pulled his face up and kissed him roughly.

And in a fraction of a second, it was all over again and Sasuke stood there, blushing and looking very embarrassed. He backed up, obviously shocked with what he'd done. "Oh...shit...I'm sorry!" he cried, then hastily gathered his stuff and fled the room.

Naruto stood in the middle of the room, blinking stupidly. Absently, he pressed his fingers to his lips. Sasuke had just -

And worst of all, he'd liked it. He felt sick. He was shaking badly and he was cold. All the colour must have drained out of his face. He sat down in one of the vacant chairs, trying to calm himself. His mind was racing, and his heartbeat was too. He thought for a minute that he was going to faint.

"Oh gods," he choked out.

Then he did the only sensible thing he could do. He ran. He ran out of the room, out of the school. He had to get away from there. He knew he wouldn't be able to stand being in the same room as Sasuke, not now, not probably forever. He couldn't face the idea that he, who was already an outcast, was now different from everyone else.

His feet pounded on the pavement, churning up pebbles and dust. 'Why me, why me, why me! Why not someone else!'

He ran all the way home. He ran straight into the backyard, where he collapsed under the ancient oak tree, crying and pounding the ground with his fists. He felt like he was two, having a temper tantrum over something he couldn't have.

"It's not fair, it's not fair!"

Slowly, the initial rage began to fade and he curled up, wiping tears away to make room for fresh ones. With the anger gone, he was left with nothing but cold, quiet longing - for something he couldn't have. Acceptance. Wasn't that what every teenager wanted? To be accepted, to fit in, to have some sort of social standing -

He had none. He was the total outcast, the loner, the loser, the freak that nobody wanted to be caught talking to. Even some of the teachers avoided him.

The wind shifted the leaves of the tree and he was filled with a sudden want to be the wind. The wind went everywhere, heard everything, but was nothing, really and when it wanted, it could just drift away, leaving the air stagnant and still.

The sun rose into the sky and the day grew warmer, but he had no intention to move, no desire to move. He just wanted to stay where he was, always and never have to face the world.

The day was bright and warm and happy. Naruto's day was bright and cold and miserable.

- - - - - -


	3. Forte

(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! I think we had a misunderstanding when I mentioned "full story". I meant if anybody wants to know _wh_y the story was removed, email me. I did _not_ mean email me to obtain a full copy of the story. The story, up until chapter 40, is only available on my website currently (see my profile page). Also, don't leave your email in the review box; the site will remove the address and I won't be able to contact you! Either sign in, or add your email address after your name in the box that asks for your name.

Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On

Chapter 3: Forte

Why? Why had he done such a stupid thing! He'd kissed somebody. He'd kissed a boy. He'd kissed a boy he didn't even like, a boy he hated with a passion. He'd kissed Naruto, he'd kissed that freak that he'd vowed he'd never, ever associate himself with.

But why! He couldn't figure it out. It just didn't make sense. Why did you kiss someone you hated? You kissed people when you loved them, and you spat at them and sneered at them when you hated them.

But then again, he spat and sneered at Itachi, and he loved him, in some odd, twisted way. But that was different. They were family. And family loved you, no matter what. Some days he hated Itachi; some days he loved him infinitely. Was he walking along the same line with Naruto?

He tried to tell himself he wasn't. He hated Naruto, had always hated Naruto, and would always hate Naruto. It was like the law of gravity. You couldn't change simply by wanting it to change. He slammed the brakes on his thought process. Had he just implied that he had wanted to change the fact he hated Naruto?

Outwardly, Sasuke was cool, calm and composed. His face showed no signs of the inner turmoil, of the confusion that had him forcing down the nausea bubbling up in the pit of his stomach. It was such a normal thing for him to do, the daily facade, that he didn't bother to drop it then.

It was probably his greatest fear. He didn't want to be caught out in the open, vulnerable, weak and helpless. Emotions made him weak and destroyed rational thought. Emotions, the very epitome of what it meant to be human, destroyed him from the inside out. He had killed his feelings at an early age, so long ago he couldn't remember.

But back to the current problem. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about Naruto. He knew that at one point, he had hated him and now, that hate seemed to have turned around. There was no other logical conclusion as to why he'd kissed the blond like that, so impulsively. He had never been prone to impulses before, so why now?  
Maybe it was hormones. And even if that was the case, why Naruto? Because he was the closest thing to act out the desire to kiss something on? No. He vaguely remembered making the conscious decision that he wanted to kiss Naruto, and nobody but Naruto.

Maybe. . .maybe he sought comfort in the fact that the other boy had never been kissed either, though for different reasons. Perhaps it was a relief to know that the other had no experience, no expectations. Maybe it was a comfort thing and nothing more.

At least, he hoped it was nothing more.

His eyes darted back and forth between the door and the back of the room, where Naruto's desk remained steadfastly vacant. He became increasingly worried when the five to nine bell rang, heralding the five-minutes-to-start time. Still, the blond made no entrance.

The final bell rang and class started. Sasuke wondered what had happened to Naruto. The blond had been perfectly okay before. . .well. . .

Okay, so he wasn't exactly calm after that. He could only imagine how confused Naruto was. After all, the blond must have been wondering what on earth had possessed him, Sasuke, the coldest, most arrogant jerk on the face of the earth, to kiss _him_. The answer to that question evaded even Sasuke himself.

He snapped back to reality, hearing Tsuande-sensei rap out his name in a menacing tone. "Sasuke, are you even paying attention?"

He felt shame creep up on him. He was letting emotions, something he hated, he despised, drag him away from his studies. That wasn't acceptable. "No," he said, blandly, as if it didn't matter.

Tsunade-sensei looked exasperated and slightly disappointed. "I suggest you pay attention, Sasuke."

A few of the boys in the class snickered, amused at finding Sasuke knocked down off the pedestal the girls had set him on. He didn't look so great now. The girls were currently glaring at the teacher, disproving of her reproach to Sasuke.

Sasuke spent the rest of the lesson zoning in and out of deep thought. He caught bits and pieces of Tsunade's lesson, and the rest was lost. He was too deep, wading about in the quagmire of his feelings, about to be dragged down to the murkiest depths at any given second.

The bell finally rang and the lesson ended, freeing Sasuke from the prison, if only temporarily. He resolved that he'd go see if Iruka knew what had happened to a certain blond student.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Iruka glanced up as somebody slammed something down on his desk. He came face to face with a seething Tsunade. She'd slammed her hands down on the desk in rage. "I swear," she started, "If that little heathen of yours skips my class once more, I'll have his head!"

Iruka blinked. "What are you talking about, Tsunade?"

"Uzumaki Naruto, that's what I'm talking about! That little brat cut class again! I'm trying to make him pass, but by God -"

"I'll talk to him," Iruka said, calmly.

Tsunade threw her hands up in the air. "Talk to him all you like! I'm going to fail him!"

"Tsunade, please, calm down -"

Both teachers stopped abruptly, looking at Sasuke who was standing in the doorway. The dark-  
haired boy cleared his throat. "I was wondering if you'd seen Naruto, Iruka-sensei," he said, his voice not belying the worry or confusion that he felt.

Iruka shook his head. "I don't know where he is."

The brunet teacher looked Sasuke straight in the eye, as if trying to read his mind, scanning him for intentions. And then Sasuke remembered that Iruka was currently under the delusion that he and Naruto were. . .

"Why?" Iruka asked finally, being unable to decipher the teenage boy before him.

"Some. . .stuff. . .happened," he started, feeling a bit silly, a bit shy. "And I. . .kinda. . .needed to talk to him. To make sure he was okay," he finished meekly, feeling so mushy and sentimental it made him want to puke.

Iruka seemed to brighten a bit at the thought of Sasuke being concerned about Naruto. "Well, I haven't seen him, but I'll let him know you're looking for him if I do."

"Uh. . .okay. . .thanks," Sasuke muttered, and then beat a hasty retreat to his next class.

Tsunade glanced at Iruka curiously. "What was that all about?" she asked.

Iruka shrugged, not wishing to disclose any information if the boys weren't ready to share. He didn't want to jeopardize the fact Naruto seemed to have found someone to take care of him. The boys would tell when they were good and ready.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The library was small, dusty and dim. But it was quiet and that was all that mattered to Sasuke right then. He sat, hidden in one of the corners, deep in thought. He had closed his eyes in concentration, trying to form a logical solution to the mess at hand.

So, he hated Naruto. He had hated Naruto the first time he'd ever seen the blond. He knew, by instinct, that he hated him. Naruto was loud and obnoxious and everything that Sasuke wasn't. It seemed natural that their personalities would conflict.

Now, he had seemingly gone and turned that hatred upside down by impulse. He had decided that the decision to kiss Naruto had been conscious. He had decided to kiss Naruto because of the level of comfort he took in knowing the other boy had never been kissed either.

But that still didn't explain why he'd felt the urge to kiss him in the first the place. Of course, he could chalk that up to hormones and being a teenager, but he had a feeling that it wasn't the truth.

He sighed in frustrated confusion. This wasn't helping. For all his logic, there was that tiny piece of illogical stupidity that kept laughing at him. It was driving him mad. He had the sudden urge to dash his head repeatedly on the desk. Perhaps it would knock some sense into him, or at least, knock the answer out of its hiding place in the shadows of his mind.

He decided against the action, as it would draw the attention of the librarian, who was already giving him a funny look. She'd walked by several times, glancing at him warily each time. He wondered if she knew that he was cutting class. He wouldn't doubt that she did.

He leaned back in his chair and stared at the light fixture in the cracked ceiling. He rolled his eyes. This building was going to hell in a handbasket. The sad part was that, even with all the extra money the government and fundraising was putting into the school system, nobody could be bothered to fix the actual facility. He half suspected that most of the money went into the board executives' and the teachers' pockets.

He contemplated the light. It was bright and it hurt his eyes and he knew that he should have looked away, but there was an idea tugging at the back of his mind, inspired by that light. By the light, of all the stupid things in the world.

A fly buzzed about the ceiling, landing on the light, then lighting again. It buzzed around in circles, then landed on the light again. 'Stupid fly,' he thought as the insect repeated the process half a dozen times.

The fly was attracted to the source of light. Even if it had been a fire, that stupidest of all creatures would have willingly thrown itself into the inferno.

Perhaps a similar situation could apply to himself currently. He was. . .attracted (he hesitated to even think the word) to Naruto, because the blond was so different than himself. Naruto, however annoying he was, was also undeniably entertaining. It was quite the amusing thing to see Naruto annoyed, or angry, all worked up about something as he ran his mouth off, ranting and raving, his eyes snapping with irritation.  
That was why Sasuke hated him. The boy was so different from himself that he couldn't connect with what the other was thinking, feeling, saying, doing. It made no sense to him, and what he did was encrypted to Naruto's logic as well. In an odd sort of way, that difference also made Sasuke admit that he. . .almost. . .admired the blond boy, in a way. Naruto, though ever the outcast, wore his heart on his sleeve, told the world what he thought and was strongly opinionated.

He himself, on the other hand, never said what he thought and shielded his supposedly-dead-but-  
seemingly-not-so-dead emotions from the world, forcing them down behind a mask of indifference. He didn't care what anyone thought. He had no opinion. They could do as they liked.

There were, in some ways, some parallels that connected them. He was alone in this world; and Naruto was too. Oh, but of course, he had Itachi, but somehow, he felt detached from him and he couldn't truly say he held the other dear. Naruto had Iruka, but did the blond really see him as more than a brother? He knew that neither Naruto nor Iruka regarded their relationship as that of a father and son. So, in a sense, they were alone.

Neither he nor Naruto cared what the world thought. Naruto had his own opinions and wouldn't change them for the world. Sasuke couldn't care less what the world thought. It didn't matter to him.

Sasuke snorted as he realized that he'd just managed to make a mental comparative essay. The librarian walked by again, looking at him.

He glared at her. He didn't care what she thought.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

"I just don't understand," Iruka complained loudly.

Kakashi just shrugged. "It's Naruto. What's so weird about him skipping class?"

"He normally doesn't cut all his classes!" Iruka near shouted, almost enraged by Kakashi's calm demeanor. How could he be calm? What if something had happened to Naruto? Something bad?

Kakashi shrugged yet again. "I'm sure he's fine, Iruka. You're just overreacting."

"I am not overreacting," Iruka grumbled, giving the gym teacher a dark glare.

Kakashi smiled at him. "You are so. Naruto's fine, I'm sure of it. Just calm down, okay?"

He lay a hand on the shorter man's shoulder, as if trying to comfort him. Iruka pulled away, afraid to stay under that hand for too long. "You listen here, Hatake Kakashi," he started.  
Kakashi rolled his eyes. "Iruka. . .Simmer," he said, smirking when he saw the younger teacher's look of confusion.

"Simmer?" Iruka asked, puzzled by this new phrase.

Kakashi grinned stupidly to himself. His students' slang was good for something after all. "In other words, chill out, or calm down and stop worrying about it."

He tucked his arms behind his head and continued to keep pace with Iruka as they walked through the deserted after-school hallways. They walked in silence for a moment or two, before Kakashi looked at his shorter companion, his eyes smiling with amusement. "We need to take your mind off this. How's about you and I go for dinner tonight?" he suggested casually, watching Iruka stop dead in his tracks.

Iruka blushed and tried to stammer an answer. Kakashi just continued smiling. Iruka's silly crush on him was no secret to him, and he planned to use the other's affection for him to his full advantage. If Iruka was willing, why not?

That wasn't to say, of course, that he disliked Iruka in anyway or had any intention of deliberately trying to hurt Iruka. Keeping his company and sharing a meal or two wasn't really any grounds for a serious relationship, anyway. Besides, Iruka would get over it eventually.

He watched with passive amusement as Iruka tried to answer him with either a decisive 'yes' or 'no'. It was obviously a hard choice for the other to make, with part of him wanting to go home and make sure Naruto was okay and safe, et cetera, et cetera. The other half of him, obviously, wanted nothing more than to throw all responsibility and duty to the wind and go with Kakashi.

Finally, he sighed and said, "I'd love to go, Kakashi, but I've got to make sure Naruto's okay."

He looked at Kakashi with remorse and the silver-haired man smiled gently. "Okay. We'll go check up on Naruto and make sure he's okay. And once you know everything is okay, we'll head off to dinner. Agreed?"

Kakashi posed a question at the end of his statement, as if to give Iruka the idea he had some choice in the matter. He didn't bother to wait for a reply to it, though, grabbing Iruka by the arm and dragging him off.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Naruto, at some point in the day, had seemingly found the will to die somewhere soft and comfortable. He'd dragged himself up off the ground, into the house and upstairs to bed. He'd managed to nestle himself under the covers, but the elusive Angel of Death had yet to console him.

He truly believed, at that moment, he would die. He was cold, he was freezing, he was colder than ice and no matter how many blankets were on the bed, he couldn't get warm. His head throbbed and his eyes ached, longing to close in eternal sleep. He felt sore, as if he'd been beaten, as if he was bruised and battered everywhere. His throat was raw from crying. He was exhausted, mentally, physically and emotionally. He'd done nothing all day, but it had taken all his energy, all his strength.

He groaned and rolled over, hating the persisting feeling that he had been run over with an eighteen-wheeler truck. Pushing straggling strands of blond out of his eyes, he wondered if this were some belated form of shock.

It was in this hellish state that Iruka found him.

It was quite the unpleasant shock to see the normally vivid blond so lurid. Iruka was at his side in mere seconds, his mind abuzz with a thousand questions. "Naruto! What happened! Naruto!"

His immediate thought was that the boy was dead (which was highly unlikely), a foolish fear which was soon eased by the uneven, shallow breathing. He shook the teenager, only to find him ice cold. Panic fluttered in his chest. What had happened to his Naruto!

"What's wrong?" he demanded.

Blank blue eyes were turned upon him and he had the distinct feeling that Naruto wasn't actually seeing him. "Nothing's wrong," was his answer, delivered in a raspy whisper.

A soft smile played on the blond's lips for a second, before he said, "Everything's all right now, isn't it?"

"You've gone crazy, haven't you?" Iruka asked, wary of this sudden change. Was this even Naruto he was talking to? He wasn't so sure anymore.

Naruto laughed bitterly. "I wish," he muttered darkly. "If I was insane, none of this would matter."

"None of what would matter?" Iruka asked.

Again, he received no answer. He stood up and fled downstairs.

Kakashi glanced up at him from the kitchen table. "Ready to go?" he asked cheerfully.

"No," Iruka snarled, picking up the telephone.

Kakashi stared, taken back by gentle Iruka's manner. "Who are you calling?" he asked, careful to sound uninterested. He didn't know what would invoke another snapped reply.

"Doctor," Iruka said shortly.  
"Is Naruto okay?" Kakashi asked, letting genuine concern seep into his voice.

"No!" Iruka cried. "I don't know what's wrong with him! It's like. . .it's like he's a whole other person!"

"Does he have a fever?"

"No, he doesn't! I don't know what's wrong with him!"

And with that, Iruka slammed the phone down and collapsed into one of the chairs, on the very verge of crying. Kakashi glanced about, feeling uncomfortable and unsure of what to do. "Hey, now," he started, only to wind up quiet because he didn't know how to continue. They sat there in awkward silence.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Sasuke slammed the door shut, walking into the house. He was agitated and tormented, so the last person he wanted to see was. . .well, anybody.

Lo and behold, who was sitting on the living room couch, flipping channels, but his brother's unfamed friend, Orochimaru? Sasuke glared at him. He waved cheerfully to the younger teen and smirked. "Hello, Short Stuff," he said cheerfully, waving slightly.

For some reason, Orochimaru had always reminded Sasuke of a snake. Perhaps that was because he'd always felt that he viewed the other as the dividing force between himself and his brother; the snake slithering its way between them, then wrapping Itachi up and swallowing him whole. Sasuke didn't like Orochimaru; he never had.

"How was your day?"

Orochimaru always went on like this, as if they were friends. Sasuke grunted and ascended the stairs. "You could at least say hello!" Orochimaru called after him.

Sasuke stormed upstairs, ignoring the request to be civil. He was vexed and he wasn't civil at the best of times, so why should he be now? Orochimaru watched Sasuke go, then sighed and shook his head. "Ya know, sometimes, I really think he doesn't like me," he complained, seemingly to thin air.

Itachi, who had been standing in the doorframe of the kitchen, smirked slightly. "He doesn't like you."

The boy rolled his eyes and pulled a face. "That's what you say about everybody. Do you think the entire world hates me or something?"

Itachi shrugged. "If they do, it means I get to keep you to myself."

"Possessive, are we?"

Itachi's eyes flashed dangerously as he glanced at Orochimaru, who was sprawled out on the couch, smiling coyly at him. "Not at all," he said, the flicker of amusement evident in his voice.

"Would you really keep me all to yourself? Wouldn't you like to share me?"

Itachi shook his head and mouthed a 'no'.

"Selfish bastard," Orochimaru chided. "You'd keep me separated from the world if you could."

Itachi fixed his gaze on him. "I wouldn't want them to hurt you," he said, his voice becoming softly serious.

Orochimaru snorted and turned his attention back to the television. "You're terrible, you know? You treat me like some sort of helpless child."

Itachi joined him on the sofa, pushing his face into the other's neck. He somehow found it comforting to feel the blood rushing to and fro in the veins of his lover. It signalled to him that he was alive, and as long as he was alive, Itachi could care less about anything else.

"You are a child," he murmured, nuzzling his cheek against the flesh of the other.

"Hmph," was his reply.

He knew Orochimaru was right. He would have locked the other away if he thought it would shield him from the world. He'd already learned that the world was a cruel place to be and he knew pain and suffering intimately. He would have done anything to spare the other from those intolerable feelings. Thus, he spoiled him without reason, trying to shield the eyes he believed to be naive and innocent from the dangers that he'd encountered.

He could have focussed that sentiment on his younger brother. He should have focussed that sentiment on Sasuke. But somehow, he couldn't bring himself to try and shield the younger boy. Sasuke had suffered at the hands of the world, just as he had, and shared in the same pain of the loss. While they should have grieved together and consoled each other, they had drifted apart. Itachi felt like a failure, being unable to keep Sasuke safe and concealed in blissful ignorance. He fancied that if Sasuke had not encountered grief, they would have been closer.

He opened his eyes and lay against Orochimaru, listening to the dull thud of the blood beneath the skin, feeling the heat that radiated from the other boy. All these things pointed to the obvious - Orochimaru was alive. He moved, he talked, he walked, he breathed. He was warm and his heartbeat was strong. And when he was alive, Itachi felt alive too.

He had lived a long time, separated from the world, separated from normal feeling. He often woke in the middle of the night, woken by the death-like silence of the room, desperately trying to find a pulse, to hear the reassuring thud of his heartbeat, only to find they had ceased. His hands were icy cold at those times and he felt like some sort of reanimated corpse. It scared him.

Panic attacks were what the medical authorities had informed him they were. He'd never had them before his parents had died; then as frequently as every night afterwards and sometimes even during the middle of the day. It probably had originally been caused by the overwhelming idea that his parents were really gone and never going to walk in that damn door again. And from there, it had created a deep-rooted fear of dying and the fear that he was already dead.

A hand tangled in his tresses and he pushed his head up against that caress, like a cat, wishing for more of it. "You're cold," Orochimaru mumbled, absently stroking his partner's hair.

"I'm always cold," Itachi mumbled, his voice muffled by the other's neck. The feeling of breath on his skin tickled Orochimaru and he shivered. They stayed like that for a long time, each unwilling to move from the other's presence, for reasons they preferred to keep to themselves.

The television droned on, somehow holding their eyes, but not their minds.

- - - - - - - - - -

The night passed into morning. Naruto shifted and his eyes flickered open. Early sunlight streamed into the room. He glanced to his left. Iruka was sitting in a chair, dozing lightly. He looked tired, the colour drained from his face and black circles encompassing his eyes.

Naruto sat up, his eyes moving about the room. He stretched and yawned. This seemingly woke Iruka, who stirred, then glanced at the blond. "Oh. . ."

The brunet forced him to lay back down, worriedly checking him over, talking rapidly. "Are you okay? Lie still. You were awful last night, you didn't even have a fever, but oh, gods! I thought you'd gone crazy! It was terrible! Do you feel better now?"

Iruka paused, stopping for both breath and an answer. Naruto stared at him, waiting to process what his guardian had just said. "Umm. . .I feel fine," Naruto said, sitting up a bit, only to be shoved back down again.

"You should rest! By moving around, you could trigger another bout of it, or something! You might feel fine, but you're probably not right as rain, yet," Iruka continued.

Naruto managed to sit up, pushing Iruka off him. "I'm fine. Really, I am."

Iruka sat back, looking relieved. "You little brat!" he laughed. "You gave me such a scare!"

Somehow, Naruto managed to convince Iruka that he was well enough to go to school. Iruka had firmly believed that Naruto should stay home and rest, but with some begging and some cleverly delivered lines, the blond won over Iruka's resolve.

He wasn't quite himself, not yet at least, but he'd recovered most of his stability. He was unusually quiet, seemingly in deep thought, or completely zoned out, Iruka noted. Somehow, in a mere instance, the loud-mouthed blond had be quite transformed.

They headed to school.

Naruto was silent all the way there. He was thinking. He didn't remember anything of yesterday, except vague images, which he could make no sense of. There was the piano, the music room, Sasuke, and seemingly some more Sasuke, but that was all that came to him.

When they arrived in the music room, Iruka set him to organizing the music books. The teacher was intent on keeping an eye on the blond. Naruto set about his task without question.

And as he did, things seemed to start to fall into place in his memory. He remembered running. He remembered crying. He remembered feeling sick and horrid and disgusted. He remembered lying under the oak tree in the backyard. Then, everything blurred again until he woke up.

The event that had evoked the fit still remained a mystery. The shadowy answer finally had some light shed upon it, when a certain dark-haired boy wandered into the music room. He remembered.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Sasuke was little more than surprised to see Naruto in the music room. He had thought that maybe the blond had dropped off the face of the earth.

Immediately, he discerned that something had changed. Naruto seemed oddly quiet, oddly co-ordinated. An air of grace and tranquillity seemed to have fallen on the normally disruptive boy.

"Naruto," he hissed, his breath catching, before he could check himself.

The blond turned about face him. He stared into the changed face, his eyes widening in shock. The colour had drained away, leaving only a faint residue to herald the fact it had been there to begin with, and the eyes were devoid of emotion. They held his gaze, and studied him for a moment. Then, they flared up, anger igniting them and bringing them back to the realm of the living.

"You!" he near shrieked, jabbing a finger in Sasuke's direction.

"Naruto. . .what happened?" He was transfixed by those eyes, by their wild transformation from deathly serenity to savage livelihood.

"You!" he screeched again. "Look what you've done to me!"

"What I did?" Sasuke retorted, feeling his contempt for the boy arising in his throat. So this was why he hated Naruto in the first place. Ah, yes, he remembered the feeling well now.

Naruto curled his lip in distaste. "Yes, you! You. . .you. . freak! I hate you! Look at what you've made me!"

Anger had flushed those pallid cheeks and Sasuke felt relieved to see colour return. Still, he felt his own temper rising. "What! I did nothing to you! Whatever you did, you brought it on yourself!"

Naruto seemed to snap again, changing his mood again. He covered his eyes with his hand, bowing his head. He was making some terrible broken noise, which Sasuke realized to be weeping. The blond was shaking and crying. He was leaning on the bookshelf. "It's true!" he howled. "And they're all going to hate me now!"

Sasuke backed away, scared beyond belief. Had Naruto finally flipped? Had all those years of taunts and hatred ate away at his sanity until now and he'd just. . .snapped?

He could only stare in confusion as Naruto continued his cryptic lamenting, until Iruka swooped into the room. The brunet teacher somehow managed to restrain Naruto, who had swung from grief to a murderous rage. "I'll kill you, Sasuke! I swear I will! You're not going to get away with this! I hate you!" he shrieked, his voice rising to a terrible pitch.

Iruka ushered him into the music office, shutting the door tightly. He turned to Sasuke. "What did you do to him?" the teacher growled, the dark circles about his eyes adding a menacing tone to his glare.

"I didn't do anything," Sasuke said, pondering what in seven hells had just happened.

Iruka sighed and shook his head. "I just don't know," he muttered. "I went home and I found him like that. The doctor said it was emotional distress."

He glanced pointedly at Sasuke. "He was fine and. . ."

Outwardly, Sasuke appeared merely confused. Inwardly, he was reeling. Was Naruto's current state really his fault? It could have very well been - that stupid kiss had proved to be stressful enough for himself. But he hadn't. . .he hadn't thought Naruto was that. . .that. . ._vulnerable_, that _weak_.

Iruka was speaking again. ". . .don't know why I brought him here. But I couldn't leave him alone. He'd kill himself, I'm sure he would."

Silently, Sasuke agreed with Iruka. Naruto had gone from depression to violent anger in mere seconds. He was a danger to himself in that condition. And every time he closed his eyes, he could see those damn eyes again, glaring at him, blaming him, screaming at him.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Two had days passed since the incident.

Sasuke was almost sure now that the boundless happiness and annoying loud-mouth personality was just a cleverly thought out guise to conceal the true Naruto from the peers who didn't want to know him. And while that guise was obvious to him now, Sasuke admired Naruto with a new respect.

The blond's disguise was so much more intricate than his own mask of cold indifference. For himself, he had to merely cut himself off from the world. But Naruto. . .Naruto had sought to wrap himself more deeply in the world and in doing so, a single inconsistency in the way he acted, the way he talked, would spoil the costume. A single step out of line would send the entire masquerade crashing to the floor.

Currently, said blond was glaring up at him through partially closed eyes. They were practising the play again. This counted for thirty per cent of their final mark, mental breakdown or no mental breakdown. They were pretending that the kiss had never happened. They had both resumed their masks, after dropping them for only a fraction of a second.

And still, that time span had been enough to let Sasuke see that Naruto really was suffering because he'd been shunned. He was suffering so much more than he let on. It wasn't Naruto's everlasting happiness that bothered him now - it was those eyes, the sad, dead eyes that had haunted his nightmares for the past two nights.

He really was dreading the kiss scene this time around. He wasn't sure of himself. Could they pull this off? Could they brush lips quickly and continue to pretend that they had never shared another contact like that, willingly, without being directed by words written on a page?

When the time came, he hesitated, unsure. Firming his resolve, he swooped in and captured Naruto's lips with his own. What was intended as a quick, gentle action suddenly became prolonged and more intense. Open mouth met open mouth; tongue met tongue.

Naruto wrapped his arms about Sasuke's neck, dragging him down. They broke the kiss, having toppled over into a compromising position, Sasuke lying on top of Naruto, pinning the smaller boy to the bed.

Naruto's eyes were narrowed in anger. "Do you like me or something?" he sneered.

"I hate you," Sasuke returned, narrowing his gaze as well.

Naruto squirmed against him in an effort to get free. "Good. . .'cause I hate you too."

"Then. . .why do we keep doing this?" Sasuke asked, sitting up.

Naruto got up as well. "I don't know. Why would I know? It was you who started all of this!"

"Me? It was you -"

Sasuke fell silent. Naruto stared at the floor. "I think I'll be going now," the blond mumbled, taking his leave of the bed.

"Fine. Whatever," Sasuke muttered.

He heard the door close. Naruto's footsteps sounded on the stairs and then he heard voices - Itachi bidding Naruto goodnight. The front door closed.

Biting back a cry of rage, he tore everything off the bed - sheets, pillows, everything - and flung them across the room. He flung himself against the mattress, beating it with his fists, dashing his head against it. Tears of frustration burned at the corners of his eyes.

Why! Why did Naruto have that effect on him! It made no sense - he hated Naruto, he shouldn't have felt so helpless, so weak! Naruto made him go weak in the knees. What the hell was wrong with him!

He lay still then, feeling childish for his outburst. He glanced across the room, noting he'd managed to knock a picture off the desk when he'd flung the bedding. It's frame lay shattered on the floor now.

Vaguely, he thought he heard footsteps. Of course, that could have just been the pounding of his temples. The door creaked opened. "Hey, Short Stuff, you okay?"

Oh, superb. Just who he wanted to see. "Get out," he mumbled.

Orochimaru ignored him, in typical Orochimaru fashion. "Hey, are you crying?"

"Get out!"

Sasuke leapt up and lunged at the door, shoving Orochimaru back out into the hall and slamming the door shut. "Stay out!"

He slumped against the door, sinking into a sitting position. He buried his face in his hands.

In the hallway, Orochimaru blinked and stared blankly at the door. "Okay. . ," he muttered.

He glanced over the landing. Itachi had just ascended the stairs. "What's up?" he asked, glancing at the closed door.

Orochimaru shook his head. "Your brother's gone crazy or something."

Itachi knocked lightly on the door. "Go away," was the muffled reply.

Itachi sighed. "Sasuke, it's me. What's wrong?"

The door was flung open and Sasuke came hurtling out of the room. He ran straight to his brother, burying his face in his chest. Itachi sighed again and wrapped his arms about Sasuke, running a hand through the dishevelled black locks. "There now, Sasuke. What's wrong?"

Sasuke shook his head, indicating he wasn't going to talk. "Sasuke," Itachi growled. He was quickly losing his patience.

Sasuke remained silent, happy to be receiving some attention from the older boy, who he considered to be a weakening last stronghold of support.

Orochimaru stood there, watching the display of brotherly love jealously. His eyes were narrowed and his lip was curled in distaste. Itachi happened to glance over at him. Catching the other boy's disgust, he stuck his tongue out.

Sasuke suddenly disentangled himself from Itachi, then beat a hasty retreat to his room. Orochimaru glared at Itachi. "What was that all about?"

Itachi shrugged. "Heck if I know."

- - - - - - - - - - -

Orochimaru lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, watching the occasional set of headlights flicker across it, cast by a passing car. Beside him, Itachi was curled up, sound asleep. The other boy shifted in his sleep and snuggled closer.

Orochimaru had been re-enacting the scene in the hallway mentally all evening. He was incredibly jealous of it. Sasuke had someone to turn to. Orochimaru hated the idea. He'd never had anyone to turn to in a time of need.

As the oldest child, his desires had been ignored and all his younger siblings had leaned on him, burdening him with their problems when he had more than enough to deal with on his own. He had been their support, but he himself had no pillar to fall back on. His mother had been a crack-head; his father, he didn't know. His mother had either died or been arrested by the police, because she'd just never come back. Orochimaru had tried to hold the "family" of sorts together for a short time before he couldn't stand it anymore. He had run, he'd run away from them.

He didn't know what had become of his siblings (or half-siblings, really). He suspected social services had found them and done something with them and gods knew where they were now. He really couldn't care less.

- - - - - - - - - -

Sakura sat in her dark room, listening to the rising voices and the clang of pots being banged about, of dishes being shattered. Her parents were fighting again. It was becoming a nightly performance.

Outwardly, her mother and father appeared to be the perfect couple. The fights were getting worse though.

She sat in her room, trying to forget the yelling and remember happier times. This was her fault. Somehow, she knew it was. It was always her fault. She hugged her knees to her chest and wiped away her tears. "Stop yelling," she whispered to the darkness.

The voices got louder. She wanted to scream at them to shut up, but her voice would only add to the melee that was giving her a headache.

When she grew up, she wasn't going to fight with her husband. No, she wouldn't. Her house would be happy and peaceful, the complete opposite of the mess she was living in now. Her life would be perfect when she grew up.

- - - - - - - - - -

Naruto trudged in the door, his mind reeling. He kept his eyes on the ground, making sure he was moving forward, rather than backward. He could feel himself slipping back into the scrimmage of his emotions.

Iruka glanced up from the table to greet him. He smiled. "You're home early," he said cheerfully, then noted the blond's dejected demeanor and drawn, wan features. "What's up? Things not go as planned?"

When Naruto didn't answer him, he nearly panicked, fearing a relapse into the delirious state of two days prior. Naruto answered him finally, shaking his head. "Everything's fine. Some. . .stuff happened," he muttered, not removing his gaze from the floor. He felt like breaking down on that floor.

"Oh," Iruka said softly, not wanting to pry. Then he brightened as he remembered something. "Hinata called you."

Naruto glanced up. "Huh? Hinata? Why?"

Iruka scratched his head in thought. "Well, I couldn't hear her too well, but I think she said something about a dance. I think maybe she wanted to know if you were going."

Naruto didn't reply. Iruka took his silence as confusion. "You know, she really likes you. She's just really shy. Why don't you -"

"Leave me alone. Just leave me alone," Naruto interrupted, his voice dead and even.

Iruka sat back in surprise. "Naruto? What. . .what happened? Did Sasuke -"

"No!" Naruto snapped. "Sasuke didn't do anything!"

And he stormed out of the kitchen. Iruka blinked. "Naruto. . ."

- - - - - - - - - - -

Naruto flung himself onto his bed. Why did his life have to be such a mess? He didn't like Sasuke and yet every time. . .

He felt so funny: light-headed, weak and wobbly. Why? Why did he feel like that? It made absolutely no sense to him. He shouldn't have liked that feeling, as it usually meant he had a cold, but for some reason, now it felt good.

He muffled a cry in his pillow. Maybe he should ask Hinata to the dance. If she really did like him, what was the loss? He needed, somehow, to forget this entire mess. Hinata wasn't so bad. As Iruka had said, she was just shy.

A little sheepishly, he admitted to himself that perhaps he had other feelings for Sasuke aside from hate and jealousy. In a way, he supposed he admired the other boy, and was in awe of him, for he seemed to have everything Naruto wanted for himself.

And if his emotions did run a little deeper than he was ready to admit, he was sure Sasuke wouldn't give a damn. After all, he had all those fan girls falling over him and he had yet to even acknowledge them. He doubted he'd fare much better.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Sasuke was up and about, even though his mind told him he needed to sleep. He paced up and down the length of his room, thinking rapidly.

He wanted to ask somebody for advice. He was too confused and inexperienced with his feelings to work this out for himself. He doubted Itachi knew much more, but he felt he had no one else to turn to.

He sighed and exited his room, intent on asking Itachi for advice. He crept down the hall. Itachi's door was closed, signalling he'd gone to bed. He knocked lightly once, and received no reply. "Oh well. I'll just have to wake him up."

He shuddered at the thought of waking Itachi up. A cranky Itachi was not a pleasant thing, especially not one who's sleep had just been disrupted. He opened the door. He nearly screamed. He clasped a hand to his mouth to keep from doing so.

Itachi was lying under Orochimaru, in what seemed to be a rather precarious position. Both were flushed and slick with sweat. Itachi had his arms wrapped about Orochimaru's neck. They were intensely focussed on each other. They never even noticed Sasuke.

"I love you," Itachi whispered, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind Orochimaru's ear.

At that point, Sasuke bolted. He locked himself into his own room, feeling sick. "Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods," he panted, squeezing his eyes shut.

Unfortunately for him, the images were burned behind his eyes and he kept hearing the words he longed to hear fall from his brother's lips, given to the wrong person.

Well, at least that fixed his mess. He didn't want to think of Naruto in that context anymore, oh hell no. Every time he so much as thought of Naruto (at least, in a more-than-a-friend context), that. . .that. . .

He shuddered. He couldn't believe he'd just witnessed that. He was going to need psychiatric help now, for sure. It was bound to haunt his dreams now. He dragged a blanket off his bed and wrapped it about himself, then sat down on the floor. He just knew he wasn't going to sleep that night. He just knew it.

- - - - - - - - - -


	4. Dance to the Music

And the Beat Goes On

Chapter 4: Dance to the Music

"Hey, Hinata."

Hyuuga Hinata glanced up from her book, having heard someone call her name. For a fraction of a second, she thought she'd been imagining things again. And then she saw him.

Naruto smiled brightly at her and she felt her limbs go mushy. "H-hi Naruto," she stammered, twisting a lock of her dark hair about her index finger nervously. She could feel the colour rising to her cheeks.

The blond seemed oblivious to this and continued. "I was wondering if you'd like to go to the dance with me on Friday."

Hinata felt ready to faint. Was this really happening? How could it be true that Uzumaki Naruto, the boy of her dreams, had finally noticed her and was going to ask her to the dance!

So overcome with emotion she was that she could barely stammer an answer, which really made no difference to anyone else. "Y-yes! I-I'd like that a-a lot, N-naruto!"

He smiled broadly in return and she swore her knees were knocking. "Great!" he exclaimed. "I'll see you Friday then!"

He turned to go, glancing back and giving her a little wave. She waved back shyly after a moment's hesitation. He left the library. She sighed and hugged her book to her chest. "Oh, Naruto. . ."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sakura and Ino were sitting together at one of the cafeteria tables, talking about one of many miscellaneous topics that girls talked about. They shut up instantly, however, noticing a certain dark-haired boy walk into the cafeteria.

Immediately, they started whispering. Ino glanced at Sakura. "Do you think he's already asked someone to the dance?"

Sakura glared back. "I hope not! I doubt he's going at all."

Ino held her friend's gaze. "But, if he was going to, who do you think he'd ask?"

Sakura shrugged. Ino glanced back at the object of their affections. "Oh, look Sakura! He's looking for somebody! See the way his eyes keep darting about?"  
The pink-haired girl nodded. "Yes! Oh, oh! Ino, look! He's spotted us! He's heading this way!"

Both girls squealed, "I bet he's coming to ask me to the dance!"

Then they glared at the other. "He wouldn't ask you to the dance, Sakura-big-forehead!"

"He'd probably ask me sooner than he'd ask you, Ino-pig!"

The blonde girl smirked. "Why? Do you really think he likes your wide forehead?"

Sakura squealed in rage and covered her forehead with her hands. "At least I'm not a stupid blonde! I'm sure he couldn't put up with your stupidity!"

Ino laughed. "What I lack in brains, I make up for in beauty and I'm beating you in both."

The girls continued bickering, not even noticing when a shadow loomed over them. Somebody cleared their throat. They paused, glancing up. Sasuke was standing at the end of the table. He wasn't looking at either of them, but rather, the wall half-way across the room. "I was wondering if one of you would accompany me to the -"

He never got farther than that, for both girls started squealing in joy at the prospect of going anywhere with Sasuke. "Oh, oh! Pick me, Sasuke!"

"Don't listen to her! I'm obviously the much better choice!"

"Shut up, Ino-pig!"

"Make me, Sakura-big-forehead!"

And with that, the girls recommenced their quarrel. Sasuke, however, had been distracted by a certain blond boy, who he had just spotted, sitting in a corner by himself. Sasuke sighed inaudibly at the sight of Naruto.

The blond looked so dejected, sitting there, by himself, pushing the muck the cafeteria called food about his plate with a fork. Part of Sasuke wanted to go to him and at least give him some company. But the other half of him was bitter.

Naruto had asked Hinata to go to the dance with him. Sasuke wasn't quite sure why, but the thought made him jealous. He glanced back at Sakura and Ino, who were still fighting. Since Naruto had seemingly thought so little of their actions, he felt compelled to show the blond he cared less.

Naruto was denying that anything had ever happened between them and he was using Hinata to prove that he thought nothing of Sasuke. Well, two could play at that game.  
Sasuke sighed loudly, drawing the attention of both girls. "What's wrong, Sasuke?"

"Is the something the matter?"

They forgot their fight in an instance to dote on him. "If you can't decide," he said, in a tone that noted he couldn't care less, "I'll choose for you."

Both girls stared up at him in silence, waiting for the death knell to fall. Sasuke nearly grimaced and checked himself. It was no fun picking between two things you didn't want, when the thing you wanted was sitting just a little farther away.

"Sakura," he said at last, before turning to walk away.

Both girls stared after him, unsure of what Sasuke meant. Had Sakura been the loser or the winner? Sasuke turned about to glare at the blush-haired girl. "Well?" he asked irritably, signalling that she should follow.

Sakura rose from her seat and scurried after the dark-haired boy, leaving Ino to sulk in her seat. The blonde girl huffed, blowing strands of hair out of her eyes.

Beside her, a boy known as Nara Shikamaru said in a drawling tone, "You have bad luck."

Ino stuck her nose up in the air. "You just wait and see, Shikamaru. Sasuke will soon realize the mistake he made. You just wait."

Shikamaru snorted. "Sometimes," he said, "I pity you, Ino."

She chose to ignore the remark and focussed on glaring at Sakura's back.

Shikamaru and herself had been friends for a long time, every since they were very small. She had forgotten how they had first met, but she half suspected it was over something silly.

Shikamaru was a sulky, lazy creature. He was failing all his classes, yet his IQ claimed he could achieve top marks, if he so wished. He just didn't apply himself.

Meanwhile, Sakura was having quite the enlightening conversation with Sasuke. So far, he had yet to say anything to her.

When he judged they'd gone far enough so as not to be heard, he stopped and said, "You're going to accompany me to Friday night's dance."

She nearly fainted. How long had she been waiting for this! His eyes bored into hers with an intensity she had never seen before. It made her heart flutter.  
He laid out the rest of the details and then departed, leaving her wondering if she was dreaming this.

She wandered back to her table, as if lost. Ino glared at her. "So, what did he say?"

Sakura blinked, then smiled broadly. "I'm going to the dance with Sasuke!" she squealed happily, enjoying every last second of Ino's shock.

"What!" the blonde girl screeched. "How could he choose you over me!"

Sakura just smirked.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Rock Lee took a deep breath, preparing himself. He wove through the halls, after his target. He approached her quickly and when he was beside her, slackened his pace.

"Sakura," he said, announcing his presence.

Sakura jumped, startled, and looked to her left. "Lee!" she cried, curling her lips in disdain. "Go away," she said, a hint of anger in her voice.

"Ah, Sakura, I just wanted to ask you if you were going to the dance."

They'd stopped walking now. Sakura faced him, hands on her hips, spite in her face. "Yes," she said bitterly. "I'm going with Sasuke. Now, leave me alone!"

She walked off haughtily, leaving him standing in the middle of the hall, crushed. "Sakura," he said, watching her go.

Well, feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to help him! He made a vow to himself that he'd win Sakura over, eventually. It didn't have to be tomorrow, or even before they graduated. He didn't care, really, if she was ever his girlfriend per say, but more of a friend or friendly acquaintance.

Right now, she was blinded by her so-called love for Sasuke. While Lee didn't know him personally, he didn't have much faith that he could ever treat Sakura well, or even like her back. Sasuke was apparently like an iceblock.

Which brought him to his next thought. Sakura was going to the dance with Sasuke? It seemed impossible. But then again, Sakura had told him, and she wouldn't lie about a thing like that, would she? He doubted it.

He frowned and rubbed his chin in thought. There seemed to be a lot more going on here than what had just been revealed to him. Sasuke suddenly opening up and acknowledging Sakura? Something had to have caused it. And he was determined to find out what had and why Sasuke had suddenly chosen Sakura.

He'd sworn he'd do anything to protect Sakura, even if it meant breaking her heart.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

" . . . to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much," Naruto muttered, looking down at Sasuke's hand, which was clasped firmly about his own.

Sasuke hissed. "You can't do that! You have to look at me when you say that, you moron!"

Naruto made a face, sticking out his lower lip indignantly. "Stop telling me what to do!"

The boys were, once again, practising their scene at Naruto's house. Both were in full costume and had long since put their books away, reciting the lines from memory.

Currently, Naruto was having trouble maintaining eye contact with Sasuke. The entire scene called for pure, non-stop eye gazing, except when they closed their eyes to kiss, but Naruto seemed to be unnerved by this.

The blond had been fidgety all evening, as though he were anxious for something to happen. Sasuke had been wondering what. "Look," he growled. "You don't have to look at me, specifically. Look at the wall behind me, or something, just make it look like you're looking at me."

"Whatever," Naruto mumbled and glanced at the floor.

"What is wrong with you?" Sasuke asked, losing his patience all together.

Naruto didn't answer him, nor did he lift his gaze. Sasuke grabbed hold of the blond's chin and pulled his gaze up to meet his own. "What's wrong?" he hissed, acidly.

Naruto tried to pull away. "Nothing's wrong!"

"Then stop acting like some stupid school girl!"

"I'm not acting like a school girl!"

Naruto's face became flushed with embarrassment and anger. Sasuke could feel his own blood dashing back and forth through his veins madly. "You are so!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

Naruto cried out and lunged at him. He sidestepped, neatly tripping the enraged blond, who landed on his face, sprawling out.

Naruto had grabbed the edge of the cloth which was draped about Sasuke's neck as a cape of sorts, yanking hard on it when he fell, toppling Sasuke with him. He growled, recovering, attacking Sasuke again.

Sasuke flipped them over, crushing the smaller boy between the bed and himself. "You sorry little bastard," he snarled.

Naruto sneered and spat at him. "Fuck you," he muttered poisonously.

Sasuke drew back to punch the blond. His fist met Naruto's nose. Blood spattered across his knuckles and Naruto's cheeks.

The smaller boy clasped a hand to his nose. "Holy shid! You punched be in da node!" he said, his voice funny because of the blood pouring out of his presumably broken nose.

Sasuke said nothing as Naruto shoved him aside, grabbing Kleenex from the box on the bedside table. He held the tissues to his nose, then glared at Sasuke. "Jerk," he said.

Still, Sasuke said nothing. He couldn't find anything to say. No apology seemed fit, or necessary. At last, the bleeding seemed to cease and Naruto took the tissues away from his nose. It was still dripping. Sasuke offered to get a cloth and disappeared before Naruto could answer.

He came back with a wet cloth. He knelt down, plying it to the blond boy's face, wiping away the splotches of blood. "I. . .I'm," he started to apologize, but he didn't finish.

He'd pulled the cloth away and instinct had pulled their lips together, as if they were magnetic forces. Sasuke let the cloth fall out of his nerveless hand and cupped Naruto's flushed cheek instead.

He ran his tongue across Naruto's lush lips, almost as if he were begging the blond to open his mouth. He was barely conscious of what he was doing. Naruto complied to his whim, and he plundered the other boy's mouth with his tongue.

Neither was really sure what they were doing anymore, driven only by an animalistic urge. They tumbled, miraculously, onto the bed, one on top of the other, a writhing heap of pleasure. They broke the kiss, then went back for more, until they were dizzy from lack of air and drunk from the taste, the scent, the feel, of the other. Their hands seemed possessed, roaming freely the expanse of the other's body.

They parted, unable to keep the activity up any longer. They lay side by side on the bed, gasping for breath, shuddering with sensation. "Sasuke?"

"What?"

"W. . .what the hell did we just do?" Naruto inquired, panting, and glanced over at his partner in crime.

The ebony-haired boy just stared back. "I. . .I don't know."

"I hate you, and vice versa," Naruto mused. "So why do we keep acting like we want to boink each other's brains out?"

Sasuke grimaced and blushed at Naruto's blunt assessment of the situation, but responded, "I don't know."

This of course, led to another argument and they parted on ill terms. Each boy sat up long past midnight, brooding and musing on possible, logical reasons for their actions.

- - - - - - - - -

It was Friday night. The gymnasium was packed with students, moving to the music. The music itself was ear-shatteringly loud, and the floor shook as though the sound had become essence of the ground. Lights flashed and flickered all about, bathing the party-goers in red, blue, yellow and green light. The gym had been transformed into a highschool dance club.

Sasuke arrived with Sakura hanging off his arm at about ten past eight. Sakura looked absolutely delighted when she saw the party in full swing; Sasuke, on the other hand, looked disgusted.

Sakura dragged him onto the dance floor, where she began swinging her hips and generally imitating some of the other 'dancers' there. She kept giggling and blushing and trying to get him to dance.

He refused every time. He couldn't believe he was here. What was more amazing was that he hadn't been swarmed by fan girls yet.

And so, they spent half an hour like that, Sakura dancing and pleading with Sasuke to dance; Sasuke steadfastly refusing. By quarter to nine, Sakura was growing exasperated and desperate. "Sasuke, please!" she whined, her eyes growing wet with tears when he shook his head yet again. "I thought you came here to have fun!" she cried, feeling her heart break in half.

Sasuke glared at her. Suddenly, his eyes were away from her staring into a corner. She glanced over her shoulder to see the one and only Uzumaki Naruto. She blinked in surprise.

Hinata was with the blond, shyly dancing a bit, then stopping and wringing her hands, only to be goaded into movement again by the blond boy, who bounded around with seemingly endless energy. Sakura glanced back to Sasuke. His eyes were still focussed on Naruto. She glanced back the other way. Naruto had glanced over his shoulder and had stopped dancing, turning about to face them. His eyes had narrowed and looked considerably darker than their normal sky-blue. He said something to Hinata, then walked toward Sasuke.

Sakura grew frantic. She didn't want Naruto to walk over here! She tugged on Sasuke's arm. "Sasuke!" she begged. "Let's go get a drink! I'm thirsty!"

Sasuke ignored her. He pushed her away and walked toward Naruto.

They met about mid-way, much to Sakura's horror. Naruto glared at the taller boy. "What are you doing here?" he yelled, loudly, just to be heard over the music.

Sasuke made no reply. Naruto gritted his teeth. "Look!" he cried. "Just because we kissed a couple of times, doesn't mean I like you!"

Sasuke said nothing, but a small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. "Oh!" Naruto cried, clenching his fists. "I'm going to wipe that smirk right off your face!"

Sasuke said nothing still. Making the blond mad was fun. Naruto's eye twitched. "Fine! Fine! I like you! That's why I kissed you! I like you Sasuke! I'm a faggot, and I like you, and I want you to screw my sorry little ass until I can't think straight! That's why I kissed you!" he screamed, unaware that the music had stopped and that now, everyone in the gym could hear every word he said.

Sasuke turned red. "You idiot," he hissed.

A few nervous giggles could be heard from the crowd, who was unsure of what else to do. Naruto glanced about him, then bolted from the room. A moment or two of silent confusion ensued. Then the music went back on and everybody resumed dancing, timidly at first, then with more vigour.

Sasuke felt a hand wrap itself about his arm and he glanced to his left to see Sakura. "Oh, Sasuke. . .Sasuke, I'm so sorry for you," she said, pressing her forehead to his arm.

He pulled away. She glanced up at him. "I always knew he was queer," she sneered, suddenly. The contempt in her tone indicated she was talking about Naruto. "He's got no father and that's why he's all screwed up. Iruka's gay too. It makes me sick," she said snidely.

"Shut up," Sasuke said suddenly, his voice quavering slightly. He turned to glare at her. "You don't know anything about anybody, so just shut your mouth, you stupid little bitch."

Her eyes welled up with tears at the hurtful words, at the utter anger in Sasuke's voice. Sasuke looked as if he were about to continue, then changed his mind and dashed off. Sakura bit her lip and blinked rapidly, trying to prevent herself from crying. The night that was supposed to have been her fairy-tale come true had turned into an utter disaster.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Naruto ran. Naruto ran blindly. He didn't know where he was going. He just ran. He ran fast; he ran far, blinded by tears.

He felt guilty for not saying goodbye to Hinata; for running away from her like that. He'd apologize later. Right now, he had to get away.

He ran down the road. He ran right by his house. He ran to the woods on the edge of town. He tripped on a root, landing flat on his face.

Just his luck, it started to rain. How cliche. He didn't run much farther, afraid of slipping in the mud, as he'd already done ten times at least. He huddled under a pine tree, and sat, shivering in the down-pouring rain.

Tears streamed down his face and he wrapped his arms about himself, trying to prevent himself from breaking down completely. He rocked back and forth slightly, trying to quiet his hysterical sobs.

Something came crashing through the underbrush and he froze, afraid it was some wild animal. He stared wild-eyed at the bushes, positive he was going to die. All alone. 'Always alone,' he thought bitterly.

He continued to stare when Sasuke, a fully soaked and muddied Sasuke, emerged from the foliage. "Idiot," he hissed.

Naruto couldn't really see him anymore. Everything was turning into one big blur. Then, the blur turned to black and he knew no more.

- - - - - - - - - -

One muddy, wet, scratched, bruised and bleeding Uchiha Sasuke walked into his house. He tugged off his shoes and threw them to the floor in a fit of rage.

"Stupid Naruto," he muttered angrily, storming into the house.

"That you, 'suke?"

He glanced up, confused. The voice was slurred, but it clearly belonged to Itachi. "'Chi?" he asked, calling his brother by the pet name they'd shared when they were much younger.

A fit of giggling ensued, followed by a, "Shush, quiet!" and Sasuke discerned there were two voices.

He wandered into the den. It was no surprise that Orochimaru was the source of the other voice. What was a surprise, however, were the empty bottles of vodka scattered across the floor. Both Orochimaru and Itachi were giggling drunkenly and Sasuke could only guess what had happened.

Itachi smiled up at him. "Hey 'suke!"

He gestured for Sasuke to sit down beside him. The younger boy did so hesitantly. Itachi nuzzled his cheek. Sasuke glanced back, to see Orochimaru smiling down at him. "Pretty thing, aren't ya?" he slurred.

Sasuke glanced back at Itachi, finding his cheek now wet. The older boy was crying. "Oh, 'suke, you should leave. 'Suke, you should have never come in here. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."

"What the hell are you going on about?" Sasuke asked, trying to pull away from Itachi's hold.

"I wanna fuck you," Itachi answered. "I wanna fuck you so bad."

"Stop being a moron," Sasuke told him, struggling to get away. I

tachi was sobbing openly. "Oh, gods! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm gonna rape you, poor thing!"

Sasuke struggled out of his brother's grip. He fled the room, leaving Itachi to his drunken rambling, with only Orochimaru to. . .console. . .him.

He ran back out the front door. He had no idea where he was going, he just. . .kind of ran. When he stopped, he realized he'd stopped in front of Naruto's house. He stood there panting, before deciding to seek shelter for the night. There was no way he was going home. Not with his brother and Orochimaru drunk like that. They'd probably violate him while he was asleep.

He shuddered as the memory of his brother and his alleged boyfriend going at it floated back to the surface of his mind. His eye twitched slightly.

He walked up to the house and knocked on the door. Iruka opened it hastily. "Sasuke! What a surprise! I thought you went home! Thanks for bringing Naruto back! Oh, poor thing! He's lost it again! This is your fault!"

Sasuke blinked in reply. Iruka went red in the face, realizing he'd been ranting. "Err. . .did you want something?" he asked.

"Yes," Sasuke said simply.

Iruka waited for the ebony-haired one to continue. "Itachi's drunk," Sasuke said, as if that explained everything.

Iruka merely stood there, confused. "What does that have to do with you?"

"I'd rather not talk about that."

Sasuke brushed by him, into the house. He was getting cold and he didn't want to play twenty questions. He slipped off his shoes and went into the kitchen. Iruka blinked, then shut the door, chasing after the teen.

"Hey! Itachi didn't hurt you or anything, did he?"

Sasuke shook his head. Iruka breathed a sigh of relief. Just then, Naruto, looking pale and confused, wandered into the kitchen. He seemed very unstable, wobbling about, finally sitting down in one of the kitchen chairs. The red, irritated skin about his eyes claimed he'd been crying.

Sasuke could only stare in shock at the broken creature in front of him. A feeling of pity consumed him and he wanted nothing more than to hold the poor thing in his arms and comfort him and whisper sweet nothings into his ear -

He held himself in check and squashed those thoughts in an instant. Unfortunately, his body had moved of his own accord and he was on his knees before the blond, holding his hand. "Naruto," he murmured. "What's wrong?"

Those eyes - gods, those eyes! They burned into his soul with their emptiness. He had fallen into the crystal pools and he drowning in his flood tide of emotions.

"Sasuke. . ."

The voice was so dead and dejected. It was so soft and it lacked any brazen quality it had held formerly. "I'm so sorry," the blond was saying. "I embarrassed you in front of all those people. . .gods, I'm sorry!"

He buried his head in his hands and commenced sobbing. Iruka placed his hands on Naruto's shoulders and helped the blond up. "You need to go to bed," he said firmly.

Naruto was led away. Iruka returned a few minutes later, seating himself in the chair Naruto had previously occupied. Sasuke had retreated to his former seat. Iruka gave him a funny look. "So. . ."

Sasuke cleared his throat. "May I spend the night here?"

Iruka glanced at him, unprepared for the question. "Uh. . .I guess. . ."

"Thank you," Sasuke said, bowing his head in gratitude.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"There's a spare bedroom up here. . .I think. . ."

Iruka led Sasuke up the stairs. Neither of them had said much. Iruka was too concerned about Naruto to make pleasant conversation. Sasuke was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to care if anybody talked to him or not.

They passed the door to Naruto's room, which was slightly ajar. Sasuke paused, peering in. Naruto was curled up in his bed, sound asleep. The moonlight which filtered in from the window cast the room awash in blue tones. Naruto looked almost. . .ethereal.

Somebody placed a hand on his shoulder and he glanced up at Iruka. The brunet man smiled slightly. "Come on," he near whispered.

Reluctantly, Sasuke followed Iruka the rest of the way down the hall. The spare room was dark and drab. The furniture was minimal and the colours, faded in the moonlight, appeared to be mostly grey and brown tones.

Iruka said good night to him, then retired to his own room. Sasuke settled himself down on the bed. His thoughts refused to rest though.

He couldn't help but continue to think about Naruto. He felt sorry for the blond, and sympathised with him. He wanted to offer some sort of comfort, but was unsure of how to do so. His thoughts then dispersed down another path, which some would consider lewd and perverted.

His hormones were taking over his brain again. They'd been acting up lately, using the image of his favourite blond boy as a source of revolt and overthrowing all rational thought. He supposed it would have happened sooner or later. It was part of being a teenage boy, or so he was told.

What made tonight's fantasizing particularly unbearable was the fact that Naruto was asleep just down the hall. If he wanted to find out if Naruto's blond mop really did feel like silk, he could have gone and petted the blond, and nobody would ever know.

He was sorely tempted to do just that. Desire gave way to impulse, and he found himself having risen from the bed and creeping down the hall. He pushed open the door to Naruto's room. The blond was still curled up, as oblivious as ever.

Sasuke entered the room and closed the door. He sat down on the bed beside Naruto. He looked at the blond for a bit, before saying out loud, "Do you know what you do to me?"

Silence reigned in the room. Absently, he stroked Naruto's glossy hair. "Why do you do that? Is it funny? Do you like making me uncomfortable?"

After a little pause, he asked, "What do you think about me, Naruto? Do you like me too?"

He sighed and lay down beside the blond, stroking the sleeping boy's cheek. "You make me feel. . .so much. And you don't even do anything. It's so weird. Why?"

He studied the boy's features intensely, as if mapping his every feature. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Naruto's forehead. "I think I love you," he whispered, then settled back on the bed. There, he fell asleep.

- - - - - - - - -

Iruka snuck across the hall. Early morning light flooded into the hall. He'd already checked the spare room and found it empty. He knew exactly where to find his missing house guest.

He threw open the door to Naruto's room, exclaiming, "Ah-ha! Get your hands off him!"

He opened an eye and stared at the scene laid out in front of him. Naruto and Sasuke were curled up on the bed. Naruto was nestled in Sasuke's arms, his face pillowed against the other boy's chest. Sasuke's lips were turned up in a sort of satisfied smile. Their breathing was shallow and even, indicating they were both asleep.

Iruka nearly melted from the absolute cuteness of it. He was deeply touched by Sasuke's concern for the other boy. Of course, Sasuke was always one to ruin such a moment and did so now by opening his eyes.

He glanced at Iruka, and then at the position he had assumed during the night and blushed lightly, but didn't move. He couldn't say why, but he was all too content to be bothered by the fact that he was caught.

Iruka smiled at him. "You should get up, before he wakes up," he said.

Sasuke blushed brighter, but shook his head 'no'. He didn't really care if Naruto woke up. The blond sighed in his sleep and cuddled closer.

Iruka shook his head and smiled. "I'm going to go downstairs," he announced quietly. "What would you like for breakfast?"

Sasuke merely shrugged. Iruka frowned. That, of course, was to be expected of Sasuke. "Fine. But don't complain about whatever I make."

Sasuke said nothing in return and Iruka disappeared downstairs. Sasuke turned back to Naruto, who was still curled against his side, his fingers digging into the cloth of his shirt, clinging to him. Sasuke felt a smile pull his lips upwards and he brushed said lips against Naruto's forehead. "Good morning," he whispered, pulling back.

Blue eyes, dulled by sleep, flickered open. Naruto blinked once, then twice, mumbling stupidly, "Sasuke?"

And then, he screamed. He scuttled back from Sasuke, falling out of the bed, landing on the floor, still screaming bloody murder. "Oh my gods! You raped me!" he screeched, pointing an accusing finger at Sasuke, who dashed his head against his palm.

"Moron!" he cried. "You're dressed; I'm dressed! I did not rape you!"

Naruto looked down at himself, and then over at Sasuke, to find what the dark-haired boy said very true. They were both dressed. "How do I know you didn't just put my clothes back on after you did. . .it?" Naruto asked, eyeing Sasuke suspiciously.

Sasuke gritted his teeth. "Naruto."

"What?"

"You cannot rape the willing. Therefore, I couldn't rape you."

Naruto blinked several times over, trying to process that. "I do not want to have sex with you!" the blond screamed at the top of his lungs, pointing the finger again.

Sasuke smirked coyly. "Oh, don't you now?" He lay down across the bed, stretching out, maintaining eye contact with Naruto. He'd seen someone do this somewhere before. . .

Ah. That was right. He'd seen Itachi pull this one on Orochimaru when he was trying to -

Oh gods! What the hell was he doing! Sasuke sat up abruptly, his expression falling. He'd been trying to seduce Naruto! He shuddered at the thought.

Naruto just sat there through the entire episode, staring blankly at Sasuke, before crossing his arms and huffing, "I do not want to have sex with you, Sasuke."

He turned his nose up in the air, as if for emphasis.

- - - - - - - - -

Morning light brought no relief to the Haruno household. Downstairs, man and wife were arguing like there was no tomorrow. Upstairs, Sakura lay prone on her bed, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

She had been up all night long, crying. She didn't really quite know why. Sasuke hadn't officially broke her heart yet, but she had a feeling he would. Especially the after the way he ran out of the gym, after Naruto. She was sure he'd gone after Naruto, even if she had no proof to back it up with.

The dance had been a disaster. She should have known that the great Uchiha Sasuke was far too sophisticated to have fun. He was too sophisticated to dance with her. He was such a jerk! She sniffed loudly.

Then again, nobody ever said the path of love was easy. Sasuke was always stoic and cold. It couldn't be expected that he would change overnight into an openly affectionate person. It would take a long, long time. It might even take forever.

She sat up, feeling re-energised. She would be the one to change Sasuke! She would win him over and slowly, but surely, inch by inch, she would change Sasuke. In fact, he would love her so deeply and so much, that he would throw away the bitter indifference he had just to please her!

Ah, the flags on her castle had just been raised and the Princess had just donned her crown. And now, she settled on the edge of her bed, by her window, to wait for her beloved Prince. Yes, Haruno Sakura had just made her way to back to fairy-tale land.

Downstairs, something shattered. She heard it, but she pretended she didn't. She didn't want to hear it. Her Prince would come soon, to take her away. She sighed and looked at the glorious day outside her window.

She started to cry again. The sun, the bright yellow sun, had just reminded her of something else. That blasted Naruto! It was nearly a universally-known fact that the blond harboured a crush on her. Now, now, he had openly admitted he was gay to a crowd of people. What did that say about her? Naruto liked guys! Did she look masculine? What would people say?

Stupid Naruto!

- - - - - - - - - - -

Iruka was slightly angry. He was banging pots and pans about, just to vent. "You try to be nice, you try to offer him something he likes and he just brushes you off like a fly!"

Sasuke had made Iruka mad. The brunet teacher had wanted to make the other boy feel welcome by offering him, perhaps, a favourite dish of sorts ( and show off his cooking skills as well), but no. No, Sasuke just had to shrug and not care.

"What do you want to eat?" Iruka muttered, re-enacting the scene bitterly.

"I'll have whatever you're making, Sunshine," was his cheerful reply.

"Gah!" He dropped the pan he was holding in utter surprise.

Kakashi was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the morning paper, as if this were a very normal thing. Iruka gawked at him. "How did you get in!"

"You left the door unlocked," Kakashi said, waving the subject off. He turned the page.

Iruka mentally made note to make sure to lock the door next time, and glared at Kakashi. "You didn't have to come in and sit down, you know."

"Sure I did," Kakashi replied brightly, smiling at Iruka. "You're making breakfast."

Iruka blushed, taking that as a compliment to his culinary skills. Kakashi continued smiling. "So, what are you making, Sunshine?"

Iruka blushed brighter and turned back to his pans. "Don't call me that," he muttered half-heartedly. In all truth, he rather liked the idea of Kakashi having a kind of pet name for him.

There was silence for a moment, and then, "So, what are you making?"

"Breakfast," Iruka stated.

Kakashi rolled his eyes. "Yes, but what are you making for said breakfast?"

"Food."

Well, it seemed that Kakashi wasn't the only one with an annoying sense of humour. Iruka was trying not to laugh, and doing a rather poor job of it.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Kakashi said dryly.

Before further conversation could ensue, there was a loud clunk from the living room, followed by a yell of, "You dumbass!"

A blur of motion came hurtling into the kitchen. One half of said blur was Naruto, the other, Sasuke. Naruto was laughing insanely. Sasuke tackled the blond and the momentum of the movement sent them both out the door. I

ruka frowned. Kakashi smiled slightly. "Interesting household you have this morning, Iruka."

Iruka sighed in response.

- - - - - - - - --

Ino was on her way to Sakura's. True, she was angry at the other girl, and very, very jealous that Sasuke had picked her rival over her. But she'd heard through the grapevine that things hadn't gone exactly well and now she wanted details. Oh yes, she was going to wring all the details from Sakura.

She walked into the Harunos' yard, and was surprised to see Sakura standing beneath her window. "Sakura?" she nearly yelled, which earned her a glare from the other girl. Ino swallowed. Was she sure she wanted pester Sakura when she was obviously in one of those moods? The girl looked like she'd been through hell, her hair messy and her eyes red and irritated.

"What do you want, Ino-pig?"

"How. . .how was your date with Sasuke?"

Sakura looked at the ground and took a long time answering.

"I don't want to talk about it," she mumbled finally, staring at the mud-stained ground.

Ino didn't know what to say to that. Sakura was supposed to have been having the time of her life last night! Her patience was supposed to have brought her the long-awaited knight-in-shining armour! She felt her blood boil. If Sasuke had broken Sakura's dreams, oh, was that jerk going to get it! He deserved it, especially if he treated Sakura badly, especially if he thought she was expendable! The girl had waited too goddamn long for her happy ending! Ino was going to make sure she got it!

"Was Sasuke mean to you, Sakura? Did he hurt you?"

She placed her hands comfortingly on her friend's shoulders, her face full of concern and her eyes full of biting contempt for the bastard who put her friend in such a state.

Oh, of course, Sasuke was nice to look at, and a genius, surely, but she didn't want him if he didn't have the personality to match! What good was having someone who thought everyone else was beneath them? That only ruined people. And besides, her friend was surely more important than some silly crush!

Sakura choked back a sob. "Oh, Ino! It was terrible! He just shoved me aside! Like I was nothing! Nothing at all! He swore at me too! He called me. . .he called me a stupid bitch!" she wailed, turning her body toward the blonde's, as if to shield herself from the cruel mockery of the world.

"That jerk," Ino growled.

Sakura continued to sob bitterly, whilst Ino plotted her revenge. Sasuke was going to pay for this. He was going to pay dearly for hurting her friend.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Sasuke and Naruto spent the afternoon between bickering and being incredibly snuggle-y and cute. It was really, on the whole, rather weird. It just didn't make sense that Sasuke would ever be. . .cute. Sasuke and the word cute just didn't work well together. Unless you were a rabid fan girl, of course. Then, they were never separated.

Iruka chalked it up to the seeming fact that Sasuke was comfortable with the company. He was comfortable enough to let his emotions show, even just a bit. It had been Naruto doing most of the hugging and snuggling, with Sasuke just sort of bearing it and occasionally hugging the blond back.

All in all, Iruka thought, they made a very cute couple. Yes, they were cute even when they were fighting. They were good for each other too. Naruto could draw Sasuke out of his shell, and Sasuke. . .well, he wasn't sure what the dark-haired boy did for Naruto, but he had a vague idea it had something to do with comfort and acceptance. Sasuke seemed to accept Naruto for who he was, and for Naruto, that was a big thing.

Currently, Naruto was clinging to Sasuke's leg, trying to persuade him not to go. Sasuke was trying, very hard, to pry him off. A couple of weeks ago, Naruto would have been pushing Sasuke out the door and Sasuke would have left long before sunset.

Sasuke hadn't wanted to run the risk of going home and running into a hung-over Itachi. It probably wouldn't have been a very pleasant experience, he reasoned. The better part of the day had passed and Sasuke mused it was safe enough to go home.

"You have to stay for dinner!" Naruto wailed, loudly.

Iruka merely smiled and shook his head. Sasuke yelled something explicit at the blond, getting quite fed up with the childish behaviour. Naruto whimpered and let go of Sasuke, who stormed down the walkway. Naruto gathered himself to leave Sasuke with one last annoyance.

"Bye-bye, Sasuke-love!" he called, waving.

Sasuke spun around, glaring daggers. "Don't call me that!" he shouted.

Naruto snickered. Sasuke left, fuming.

- - - - - - - - -


	5. Imagery

(Author's Note: If you're reading, please don't forget to review! Many thanks to those who have reviewed. Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 5: Imagery

Sasuke slammed the door shut, not caring if anybody heard him. Naruto had made him mad, and that was all he cared about at the moment. Well, that and maybe how to get revenge.

"Where the hell have you been?"

He glanced up at his brother. Itachi looked haggard, pale and very, very tired. That probably accounted for his seeming foul mood.

Sasuke shrugged. "You were drunk. I left."

Itachi reeled a bit. "Oh," he said, his voice softer now. "Did. . .I. . .um. . .say anything?" he asked, his eyes darting about in apprehension.

"Yes," Sasuke said plainly.

With that said, he started upstairs.

"I was drunk, Sasuke!" Itachi yelled after him, a note of desperation evident in his voice. Whatever he'd said, it had to have been bad.

"They say the truth comes out when you're drunk!" Sasuke retorted.

"Sasuke! I wasn't thinking rationally! Whatever I said, I didn't mean it!"

Sasuke turned back around, glaring at his brother from atop the stairs. "Look! I'm not gonna shrug that off just because you were drunk! You said you were going to rape me! That's just disturbing! And wrong!"

He turned back around and stomped up the stairs, then glanced over his shoulder, shouting, "Freak!" Then, he disappeared into his bedroom.

Itachi stood at the bottom of the stairs, dumbfounded. "Oh, shit," he muttered, turning away.

- - - - - - - - - -

It was a dull, foggy, Monday morning. It was cold and dreary and Orochimaru was hardly compelled to roll out of bed. He yawned, checked the clock and pulled the blanket back over his head. It was too early to get up.  
He settled his head back on his pillow. Whoever invented school should have been shot. He sighed and decided he wasn't going to go to school that day. It was too much of a hassle and the weather wasn't doing much for his mood.

But if he stayed home, Itachi would be over to make sure he wasn't dying or anything. Itachi always doted on him, to the point that it was sickening. He decided to call his boyfriend and tell him that he was all right and just wasn't going to school. Of course, that was likely to make Itachi angry. He sighed and pulled the pillow over his head. Any way he looked at it, he was screwed.

He clambered out of bed.

- - - - - - - - -

Hinata walked into the music room, lugging her viola with her. She followed Itachi and Orochimaru in, listening to their banter. Her cheeks glowed red from what she heard. She would have never thought the two lovers.

Which brought her thoughts back to her beloved Naruto. He had publicly admitted he was gay! It didn't deter her from liking him, or thinking he was a sweet boy, but it did cause a potential problem with how she had wanted her relationship with him to progress.

She sighed as she laid eyes on the blond, who sat at the piano. She glanced away shyly, deciding that she would be happy just being friends with Naruto in the mean time. She sat down and began unpacking her instrument and music.

She glanced up as a shadow fell across her. Naruto was standing in front of her. He looked very sad, and guilty. "Hinata, I'm really, really sorry about Friday night," he started and his voice was shaking with timidness, a sign of how guilty he really was.

"That's okay, Naruto. . .r-really, it is," she said with a slight smile.

She found herself suddenly wrapped in a tight hug, with the blond boy whispering in her ear, "I'm sorry Hinata. I really am. I hope we can be friends."

Oh! If only this were under different circumstances! If only he was making a different speech into her ear, a speech shared only between two lovers! She unravelled herself from the embrace, smiling sweetly. "Of course we can be friends," she said.

Her heart fluttered when he smiled, a genuinely happy, Naruto-esque smile and she knew that he would always have a place in her heart.

Naruto turned and walked away, feeling very much relieved that Hinata didn't hate him. She was a very nice girl, although a little shy and he wanted to be, if nothing more, friends with her. She didn't deserve to be let down like she had been.

Just then, Ino raced into the room, like a storm cloud. She stomped to Sasuke's side, where she promptly stopped and began yelling at the boy.

"Uchiha Sasuke! You bastard! What did you do to Sakura! You jerk! You broke her heart, you asshole! You deserve to die and when you do, I'm going to spit on your grave! Look at me when I'm talking to you, Mister! Look at me!"

She screamed 'til she went red in the face, drawing the attention of everyone in the room except the one she was yelling at. Sasuke sat there, his eyes closed, his lips pressed to the flute, his fingers poised to play.

Ino stopped, out of breath and she stood, panting, glaring at the stoic boy. Sasuke opened his eyes and glanced at her sidelong. "Ino. . .what are you ranting about?"

The blonde girl screamed, long and loud. "Damn you, Uchiha! I hope you burn in Hell!"

Sasuke shrugged and turned back his flute as Ino continued ranting and raving. Naruto clenched his fists, but decided to stay out of the fight. He'd caused enough trouble. As an added precaution, Hinata had placed her hand gently on his shoulder, as if to restrain him.

Beside them, Orochimaru was keeping a close eye on Itachi, should the other decide to jump in and save Sasuke from the verbal abuses of wrathful Ino.

"You. . .you dirty faggot!" Ino screeched, drawing everyone's attention back to herself and Sasuke.

The dark-haired boy glanced at her, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

Beside Naruto, Itachi ground his teeth. Orochimaru leaned over and whispered something and Itachi sat back in his seat, sulkily. He had apparently been ready to give Ino a fist to the face, not just for his brother, but for the insult to himself, his brother, Orochimaru and (if he had known) Naruto.

Ino seemed to notice that she had hit a nerve and continued. "Yeah, you heard me, fag. You're a fucking little man-whore. I bet you get down on your knees and -"

Sasuke stood up. "Ino. You shut your fucking mouth," he said lowly, hinting on violence that would follow if she chose to ignore him.

Ino smirked and continued. "Aw, what's the matter, Sasuke? Can't handle the truth!"

"Shut up Ino!" Sasuke growled, which spurred her on.  
"Aw, Sasuke can't handle the truth! Don't you want everyone to know that you suck your brother off? Huh? Aren't so high and mighty, especially not when you're on your knees!"

There was a sound slap and the silence that followed was near deafening. Sasuke stood towering over Ino, who had fallen to her knees, blushing and breathing harsh with controlled anger.

Ino held a hand to her cheek and started to get up, tears in her eyes. "You," she started.

"Look who's on her knees now," Sasuke said, a triumphant smirk threatening to take over his features.

Ino swore and got up. She glared at Sasuke. 'Oh, I'll get you back, Sasuke,' she vowed mentally, glaring at he opponent and taking her seat.

Sakura entered a moment later, blissfully oblivious to the prior going-ons in the music room.

- - - - - - - - -

The moment of truth was approaching. It had slowly been closing in and Naruto watched anxiously as the clock hands ticked the seconds of class time away. He glanced at Sasuke a couple of times, but the dark-haired boy seemed as stoic as ever.

Ino and Sakura were just finishing up their scene and some higher power had deemed it unfit that the bell should ring then and end the class.

The class erupted into the standard applause and the performers took their seats. Naruto felt the bile rising in his throat. He felt shaky and breathless. He didn't want to get up in front of the class and perform _that_ scene. He didn't want to before, and he didn't want to now in light of what had happened at the dance.

Tsunade-sensei was calling their names, instructing them to go to the front and get set up. Naruto glanced at the clock. They had fifteen minutes. That was more than enough time to get ready and present. He cursed mentally.

Barely able to control his shaking, he rose from his desk and made his way slowly to the front of the classroom. He could feel the eyes of the other students burning into his back. He glanced at Sasuke. For once, the other boy's eyes reflected feeling and he was almost relieved to find it synchronized with his own.

Tsunade distracted the class while they managed to get set up to present. She delivered a speech on love at first sight (which was the theme of their scene) and had the class answer some of her questions.

She glanced back at them and, seeing them ready, smiled a small smirk and diverted the class's attention to the actors.  
Naruto's voice was shaking so badly, he could barely pronounce the words when he spoke. Sasuke, on the other hand, seemed calm, his voice remaining level and calm. "Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged."

There, that was said. The scene called for them to kiss now. They hesitated. Naruto looked Sasuke in the eyes and knew he couldn't do this, not in front of all these people! He felt sick, he felt dizzy. He was going to faint. He knew what everyone would say after this. He could hear them repeating it now. He shut his eyes and waited for his doom to fall.

Sasuke, in the meantime, had been contemplating the consequences of this. What would people say? What would they think? He felt his stomach twist violently. He couldn't do this! He couldn't, he couldn't! That horrible memory of Itachi and Orochimaru burned him, made him sick. He couldn't kiss Naruto! It would make him like his brother -

The colour drained out of his face. He hadn't realized it, but he'd started to shake. Tsunade peered at her students, having decided they were taking too long a pause. "Sasuke? Naruto? Are you going to finish the scene or what?"

That was the death knell. It was do or die time. Naruto waited in vain for the kiss; Sasuke chose to die rather than complete the task. Something breezed by him and he opened his eyes to see his partner running from the room.

Tsunade was on her feet. "Sasuke!" she screamed at her student, but he kept running.

The class was in utter chaos. Had Sasuke just run out of the room! Had ever-cool, ever-  
confident Uchiha Sasuke just fled the room because of some kiss! It was unthinkable! But it had happened! Oh, it had happened!

Somebody started laughing. Twenty-seven heads turned to look at Inuzuka Kiba, who had thrown himself into hysterics. At the front of the room, Naruto got the distinct feeling he was being laughed at by Kiba, who was now pounding his fists on his desk and gasping for air between laughs.

"Sasuke! What a loser! See how great he is? He chickened out!"

Most of the girls in the room started glaring, while the boys broke out in hysterical laughter. Naruto didn't know why, but he felt anger boil in his veins. "He did not chicken out, Kiba," he growled, clenching his hands at his sides.

Kiba stopped laughing and blinked. Then he smirked. "Not that I can blame him. What guy would wanna kiss another guy? Especially an openly gay one."

The class laughed, even the girls. How true it was! Boys weren't supposed to kiss boys! How silly of a notion that Sasuke would want to kiss Naruto, project or no project! What was even funnier was that Naruto would have liked it. Naruto was gay. He'd said it himself.

Their laughter rung in his ears. He looked steadily at the floor, feeling tears burn in his eyes. He shook with barely controlled rage. "Shut up," he growled to the floor.

Kiba paused laughing. "Oh, lookit him! He's getting mad now! Better watch out! He'll go get his boyfriend to beat us up!"

The class laughed harder. Taking their amusement as encouragement, Kiba continued to mock the blond. "Lookit him! Just lookit him! Standing up there, in a dress, fer Chrissakes! A dress! What? Are you a transvestite too, now? Huh, c'mon, tell us what you are."

Naruto said nothing. "I can't hear you, Pansy!" Kiba taunted.

"Shut up!" Naruto screamed, lifting his head. The class froze, staring at the wrathful student in front of them. "You! Just shut up!" he cried, pointing a finger accusingly at Kiba. "One day, you'll be the butt of somebody's joke and you won't like it! You'll hate it! And you'll hate hearing everyone laughing at you! I'm sick and tired of being joke! What did I ever do to you!"

Kiba started laughing again. "Look! He's so mad, he can't do anything about it! Aw, poor baby! Better go crawling home to your boyfriend and suck his cock!"

Naruto screamed and flew at Kiba, decking the boy in the face. Kiba stumbled back in surprise, clutching a bloody nose. "You little faggot!" he yelled, glaring at Naruto, who was on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Stop it! Stop it! Stop laughing!" Naruto shrieked.

It was at that point, that Tsunade re-entered the classroom, only to find Kiba bent on murder and Naruto suffering from temporary insanity. "What's going on here!" she cried, bringing the attention of the students to herself.

The room was silent except for Naruto's incoherent rants and his weeping. Nobody answered her. The bell rang, but nobody moved. Tsunade sighed, saying in an exasperated tone, "You're dismissed."

The students left without hesitation, confused and slightly scared by the whole ordeal. Tsunade tried to pull Naruto up off the floor, only have her hands slapped away violently. The boy was screaming now. "No! Keep away from me! Stay away from me! Don't touch me! I hate you! I hate you!"

Tsunade tried a different approach. "Naruto," she said in a condoling tone. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Naruto sniffed loudly. "Everything's wrong," he murmured.

Tsunade nearly sighed in relief. He wasn't completely out of it. He could still hear her, and he could still answer her questions logically.

"Would you like to go lie down for a while?" she asked, waiting patiently for his answer.

He paused, then nodded slowly. Tsunade smiled with relief. "All right then. You're going to have to get up. Do you think you can do that?"

Naruto shook his head. Tsunade sighed. "Sure you can. Here, I'll help you up."

She pulled the boy up to his feet, without resistance this time. "There. That wasn't so hard, was it?" she asked, looking at his pale face.

"Yes," he whispered. His breath was coming faster and he was shaking violently.

"Naruto? Are you all right?"

He didn't answer her. He was too busy trying to make the room make sense again. It wouldn't be still! It kept swirling and whirling about. Things collided together in a mash of mass confusion. He wobbled and then felt himself going down. His vision flickered and then, was nothing more.

He'd fainted.

- - - - - - - -

Sasuke peered into the nurse's office, feeling slightly more than intimidated. Oh, but if anyone caught him here!

The nurse smiled at him benevolently. "What can I do for you?" she asked gently.

"Uh. . .is Naruto here?" he asked, looking at his feet shyly.

The nurse smiled and pointed. "He's right over there. But be quiet and don't upset him. He's not quite. . ." She trailed off and turned back to her paperwork.

Sasuke crept by her, into the actual office. There was a small area sanctioned off by curtains. Dolefully, he lifted the curtain and slid inside the partition, careful not make a noise.

Naruto was lying on the small bed there, looking at the wall the headboard rested against. He was covered up by the itchy, woollen blankets. Sasuke sat down in the chair beside the bed. He said nothing for a moment or two, waiting for Naruto to realize he wasn't alone now.

"Hey," he said softly and Naruto jumped, then looked at him, relieved.

"Sasuke!" he cried, his eyes starting to water.

The dark-haired boy put a finger to his lips, signalling him to be quiet. "They'll make me leave if you're loud," he said, sitting down on the bed, placing a hand on Naruto's shoulder.

There was a rustle of cloth and some movement, and then, Naruto had nestled into his arms, resting his head against the other boy's chest. "They said you wouldn't come back," he said softly.

Sasuke noted that the blond was cold. "Hey, hey. Don't cry," he whispered, catching the wetness of Naruto's cheek. He brushed his fingers gently across the pale skin, wiping away the tears.

Naruto started to cry harder. "They. . .they. . ," he stammered, unable to express his grievances in words.

"Sh, sh," Sasuke said, wrapping his arms about the small blond and rocking him slightly. He nuzzled the mop of blond hair. "Forget them; I'm here now."

Naruto sighed and lay back down. "They don't understand," he mumbled after a moment or two of silent contemplation.

Sasuke pressed his cheek to Naruto's, lying down beside him. He couldn't think of a reply. He wasn't compelled to give the blond one.

- - - - - - - - -

Iruka peered into the nurse's office, only to find it completely vacant. His face fell. He'd been told that Naruto was down here (after a very ugly fiasco in his English class), but now it appeared he wasn't. Not even the nurse was to be found.

"Looking for someone?" a familiar voice asked and he whipped about to see Kakashi leaning on the doorframe, smile spread across his face. Iruka's heart melted.

"Uh. . .yeah. . .I'm looking for Naruto," he stuttered.

Kakashi waved a hand in dismissal. "Naruto went home. Sasuke escorted him." The silver-haired man placed extra stress on the word escorted.

Iruka blinked. "What? Sasuke. . .oh!" he cried. "That fiend! He'd better not lay a hand on my little Naruto! If he does! Oh!"

Kakashi shook with mirth at the sight of Iruka so worked up. The teacher was funny when he was mad. Iruka paced the room, ranting and raving about what he would do to Sasuke if he so much as laid a finger on Naruto. At last tiring of this little display, Kakashi placed a hand on Iruka's shoulder, stopping him in mid-sentence. Iruka looked up at him in surprise. "Now, Iruka. I'm sure Sasuke's intentions are honourable. And if you're afraid they're not," he said, chuckling a little, "Perhaps we should pay them a little surprise by walking in unannounced?"

Iruka blinked, as if confused and then a deviant smile spread across his features. "Brilliant, Kakashi! Brilliant! I could kiss you!" he cried, eager to express his joy at the suggestion.

He paused and blushed however, realizing what he had said. "Ahem," he said, coughing. "Shall we be going?"

"Indeed," Kakashi replied, seemingly un-phased by the remark.

Iruka made a mental note to carry out the action next time.

They set off.

- - - - - - - - -

As it turned out, Sasuke's intentions weren't so honourable. Naruto and himself were upstairs, curled up on the bed, petting and cuddling. They were both blushing lightly. They weren't doing anything wrong, per se, just enjoying the other's presence and being a tad touchy-feely.

They rubbed their cheeks together, and kissed gently, played with the other's hair. Neither was really brave enough to feel ready to move further, nor were they compelled. They were happy with the simple, sweet caresses. They felt kind of silly, but they weren't ready to move on.

Unfortunately, their alone time was interrupted by Iruka, who caught them in a rather awkward position. Sasuke was straddling Naruto and holding the blond's hands to the bed as the kissed, a little more heatedly than any time previous.

"You!" Iruka cried in horror, pointing a finger at Sasuke. His sudden outburst startled both boys and Sasuke let go of Naruto on instinct.

Iruka stormed across the room. "You, Uchiha Sasuke! Keep your hands off my Naruto! You lay a single finger on him and I'll chop all your fingers off and make you eat them!"

Sasuke hardly looked threatened by this and as if to prove his defiance, pulled Naruto to him and kissed the blond roughly. He broke the kiss, leaving Naruto gasping for air, smirking and looking up at Iruka, with a gaze that seemed to say, "Take that."

About five minutes later, Sasuke found himself outside in the pouring rain, Iruka yelling further fatherly threats at him, Naruto pleading in the background to, "let him back in!" When the kitchen door slammed shut, Sasuke turned away and headed down the walk.

Inside, Naruto, ever the drama queen, had screamed at Iruka, then bolted upstairs. Iruka sighed. Kakashi sat at the kitchen table, looking rather amused. He turned to Iruka and said, "You'd make a good mother."

The music teacher glared at him. Wisely, he shut up.

- - - - - - - - - -

Shikamaru shook his head, listening to Ino rant about her day. He helped himself to the bowl of fruit on the Yamanakas' table, biting into an apple.

"And then do you know what he did!"

Shikamaru rolled his eyes. "No. What did he do then?" he muttered sarcastically, through a mouthful of apple.

Ino sat back, folding her arms across her chest, pouting. "Oh! You're no help," she sulked.

Shikamaru gave her a pointed look. "I'm helpful when I want to be."

"You're not even listening to me! You don't care what I have to say!"

"It took you that long to figure this out? You must be blonde."

Ino gritted her teeth and shook her fist. "Oh, you brat! How would you like your nose to meet your brain!"

"I don't think I'd like it very much," Shikamaru retorted. "And I doubt I'll ever know."

Ino gave a cry of anger, then sat back in her chair. "Sasuke's a jerk," she said after a moment of silence.

"No, not at all."

Ino shot her friend a glare. "Shut up, peanut gallery."

Shikamaru shrugged. "Hey, you were the one who asked me to listen your problems."

The phone rang, scaring both occupants of the kitchen. Ino got up and answered it, leaving Shikamaru to his apple. The blonde girl came back, clearly upset. "Sakura's coming over," she said blandly.

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow. Ino continued. "Her parents are fighting again."

Shikamaru nodded. He knew all about the troubles in the Haruno household. As Ino was Sakura's confidant, he was Ino's. Ino had few actual problems of her own, and took on the role of trying to solve Sakura's.

He took another bite of his apple and awaited the pink-haired girl's arrival.

- - - - - - - - - -

Tuesday's band practice was full of aggravation for both students and teacher. Iruka had introduced to them several new pieces. He was agitated that his students seemingly couldn't grasp the music. By the end of practice, he'd yelled approximately ten times (Naruto had stopped counting after five).

The students were irritated that the teacher wasn't giving them any time to play the piece through, and then correct it. Iruka seemed particularly rushed, forcing about six new pieces upon them suddenly.

They needed to get ready for the big music competition/festival at the end of the month. Iruka felt rushed and, as a result, was rushing his students.

The band members left the room, grumbling and complaining. Iruka had dismissed them and dashed off to his office the moment he had declared the practice over. Naruto sat at the piano, waiting for the others to leave. He still had about fifteen minutes in which he could practice (and probably perfect) one of the pieces before heading off to class.

The room emptied and he turned back to the piano. Just as he was about to begin, he heard a clatter and glanced to his left. Sasuke looked at him sheepishly, picking up the piece of his flute that he'd dropped. "Uh. . .sorry," he said.

"Are you leaving?" Naruto asked, eyeing Sasuke suspiciously.

Sasuke scooted over to the piano bench and sat down. "Actually, I was. . ."

He stopped in mid-sentence and looked at Naruto. ". . .I was hoping we could practice something else," he said, a sly smirk gracing his lips.

Naruto stared at him blankly, unsure of what he meant. Then realization sunk in and he blushed. "Sasuke!" he near whispered.

His protest was cut short as Sasuke leaned forward and brushed their lips together. The next kiss lasted longer, and the next, even longer than that. They plied their tongues to the kiss and upon instinct, made a few soft noises to express their pleasure to the other.

When they parted for air next, they found they were lying on the piano bench, Naruto pinned under Sasuke. They lay like that, staring into each other's eyes, panting slightly for breath and then -

Someone cleared their throat and coughed. Both started and turned to stare at the doorframe. Shikamaru shifted nervously, and smiled weakly. "Uh. . .hi guys," he said. "Forgot my music."

He darted into the room and retrieved his sheets from where he'd left them and beat a hasty retreat.

Naruto looked back at Sasuke. Sasuke looked at Naruto. "What if he tells?" he whispered, searching Sasuke's eyes for answers.

The ebony-haired one thought about that for a moment, and, at last, said, "I don't know."

They were silent for a moment more. They were well aware that someone could walk in on them at any moment, but neither wanted to move yet. Naruto sighed and began to ask a question. "What -"

"What are you doing!"

The shout startled both boys and they tumbled off the narrow piano bench, landing in an ungraceful heap on the floor. Iruka loomed over them. "Naruto! Sasuke! Honestly! You're too young to be thinking about that kind of stuff! And on my piano bench nonetheless!"

Both boys blushed bright red at the scolding and Naruto tried to give some explanation of how this wasn't what it looked like, but could find none. It was what it looked like.

"Boys will be boys, Iruka," said an amused voice.

Iruka growled. "Kakashi. . .you're not helping my case."

Kakashi merely chuckled. "All I'm doing, dear, is pointing out facts."

He was standing beside Iruka now. He pointed at the heap that was Sasuke and Naruto (neither saw it fit to untangle themselves just yet). "Just look at them, Iruka. They're young. They're hormonal. I'm sure they're flexible enough to maintain a position on the piano bench if they want to."

"Kakashi!" Iruka yelled. "You're not helping!"

Sasuke decided then that it would be a good idea to get off Naruto before Kakashi decided to imply anything else with a sexual overtone. Kakashi frowned in a mock pout and turned to Iruka. "Aw! Lookit what you did! And here I was, hoping to see some hot boy-on-boy -"

Iruka gave the older teacher a good smack. "Pervert! They're only fifteen, for chrissakes!"

Kakashi put a hand to his cheek and muttered, "That makes it all the more fun."

Iruka glared at him. Sasuke helped Naruto up off the floor. Something squeaked. All four people in the room stopped and they glanced up to see Orochimaru, who had taken a seat. He smiled.

"Well, well. What a show," he commented, giving them a little applause.

Three of the four actors went a little red in the face. Kakashi merely smiled back. Orochimaru turned his gaze on Sasuke. "And you, Short Stuff." The older boy shook his head. "Wait until your brother hears about this!"

If possible, Sasuke flushed even more. "You won't say a word to anyone about this!" he hissed.

Orochimaru laughed. "Me? Not tell anyone that Sasuke has a love life? How ridiculous."

Sasuke growled and attempted to lunge at the other boy, forgetting he still had a hold of Naruto's wrist. The blond boy was dragged with him and crashed into the back of him, knocking them both to the ground.

Orochimaru laughed and Kakashi whistled. Thankfully, the bell decided to end the boys' torture and rang, urging them to get to class.

They dashed out of the room, Sasuke dragging Naruto, amid much laughter from Ororchimaru. Sasuke dragged Naruto down the halls. He screeched to a halt outside the classroom door and slammed the door open, startling most of the students and the teacher. Tsunade stared at him. The students stared at him.

He stood there, wondering why the hell they were staring at him like he'd just. . .

Oh. So that was why. He was panting. He was red in the face. His hair was messed up (did he mention he'd just ran up three flights of stairs?). He was still hanging onto Naruto's wrist. Not to mention that Naruto looked to be in a similar state as himself.

Now, put this scene before a group of hormonal teenagers and what is the natural response?

"Oh, shit," Sasuke muttered.

- - - - - - - -


	6. Keeping the Beat

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 6 : Keeping the Beat

Kiba started to laugh. He pointed at the two boys in the doorway. "Hey! Looks like they're both queer!"

The announcement was accompanied by various chuckles and snorts and snickers from the boys. The girls merely stared in mock horror. Ino stood up, slamming her hands on the table. "Sasuke!" she screeched.

Sasuke winced. Oh, this was not good, definitely not good. . .

"You gave up Sakura to be with that!"

It took Sasuke a moment to realize the "that" she was referring to was Naruto. Hastily, he let go of Naruto's wrist and scowled. "No -"

Shikamaru (who was conveniently in their class as well), pointed an accusing finger. "Don't deny it, Sasuke! You were kissing him!"

Everyone paused to give Shikamaru a funny look. Kiba raised an eyebrow. "You were watching?" he asked.

Shikamaru scowled. "No! I forgot my music in the music room!" he huffed defensively.

Kiba rolled his eyes. "Sure. . ."

Tsunade was desperately trying to regain control of her class. "Now, now. Please, settle down. You have all of your lunch hour to discuss the finer points of Sasuke's sexual orientation."

Her little speech only evoked more laughter. Even a few of the girls started laughing. Tenten laughed loudly, "Sakura likes a gay guy!"

With that, the mocking changed targets. Sakura turned a shade to match her hair, but she didn't make any reply. She sat, with her eyes on her desk, quivering with silent rage and humiliation. Quite suddenly, she shot up out of her seat, pointing her finger at Sasuke. "You!"

Sasuke blinked in confusion. He'd never seen Sakura angry before, let alone angry with himself. She wiped angry tears from her eyes. "You dare to make a fool out of me!" she cried in indignation. "I hate you!"

She ran out of the classroom, unable to bear another moment of the torturous laughter. She shoved Sasuke aside and managed to effectively knock Naruto the ground. The blond didn't say anything, but got up and proceeded into the classroom, his eyes fixed on the ground.

The students were quiet then, save for the occasional snicker. Naruto took his seat and hastily buried himself in the book they were supposed to read for the first fifteen minutes of every class. All eyes turned to Sasuke as the dark-haired boy took his seat. He glared back, and most of the students shut up, returning to their own reading.

Sasuke sighed. What a disaster. . .

- - - - - - - -

"So. . ."

Sasuke slammed the door and glared at the living room. Itachi turned to face his brother, smiling a little. "I hear you have a boyfriend."

Sasuke grunted in reply and kicked off his shoes angrily. He stormed by Itachi, heading for the stairs. "Bad day?" Itachi asked, just as Sasuke laid a foot on the first stair.

The younger turned to glare at his brother. "Maybe," he growled. "Just maybe."

Itachi shook his head. "Whatever, Sasuke. If you wanna talk about it, I'll be right here."

"I don't wanna tell you anything," Sasuke mumbled and started up the stairs.

Once inside the solitude of his room, he sat down at his desk. He opened his text book, but he couldn't see the words, nor could he concentrate on them. He drummed his fingers on the table top. His mind was buzzing.

Oh, he would get back at them for saying he was gay. He was not gay. He wasn't like Itachi, not at all. He'd show them. And if he was a little queer, what the hell did it matter! It wasn't them who had to worry about it, it wasn't them who had to like the idea of kissing another boy! Girls thought about kissing boys all the time, so why were they so disgusted and freaked out by it?

It just didn't make any sense. Girls, come to think about it, didn't make any sense. Maybe that was why he liked boys.

He rested his cheek on his hand, feeling utterly dejected. They just didn't understand! How could he not like Naruto? Sure, the boy was the outcast and annoying and obnoxious at times, but if they could see past all of that. . .

The problem was, they couldn't. Naruto had crafted his mask too well and even if he did falter, they still didn't see what existed away from them. Naruto wouldn't let them know, Naruto wouldn't let them in. Just like he shoved everyone away, Naruto pushed them away by trying to draw them closer. It worked well.

They were similar enough to understand each other, and different enough to intrigue each other. Sasuke doubted he'd ever be bored by Naruto, or feel completely unattached. He didn't think any of the girls would understand him. He was an enigma to them, just as they were enigmas to him. They dreamed of getting married and having the perfect little family, in the perfect little house and being the perfect little wife and the thought of a life like that just made Sasuke sick. It didn't happen and he couldn't see how they imagined they were different enough to make it happen.

Naruto was different. Naruto understood having nothing, and losing everything. Naruto understood being alone. Naruto had seen the world through open eyes to know that it wasn't a happy place. He knew the cruelty and suffering first hand and with that knowledge, he could understand Sasuke better than anyone else could.

Sasuke sighed and drew a circle on the desk with his forefinger. He had shunned Naruto after English class, and for the rest of the day. He shouldn't have done that. Somehow, the less rational, angry part of him had blamed Naruto for everything that had happened that morning, when he knew that he was more to blame. Shunning Naruto wasn't something he should do. Naruto was something precious to him, something he couldn't stand to lose. Naruto was a comfort to him, because he understood. Sasuke didn't want to lose him.

He was such a blind fool! He didn't want to lose Naruto, but he was pushing him away! Just because some stupid mocking children had pointed fingers and laughed, he was risking losing the only thing that mattered to him right now!

Suddenly, he felt as if he was in some sort of sappy romance novel. Stuff like this always happened in those things. He sighed again. His homework still wasn't making any sense. Neither was his life.

- - - - - - - - -

Naruto picked at the food Iruka had put on his plate. He really didn't feel much like eating right now.

Sasuke had been pointedly ignoring him since the incident in English. He couldn't say as though he blamed the boy. It was a pretty harsh thing for Sasuke and it had to have knocked him right off his pedestal. Part of Naruto felt that Sasuke had deserved it. The other half of him really wanted to talk to the other boy, to see how he was feeling, to try and console him (if consoling was necessary).

Sasuke wouldn't even look at him and that made him feel really. . .bad. He felt that it was his fault, and to a degree, he supposed it was. If he hadn't of. . .And if he wouldn't have. . .Of course, he shouldn't of. . .

He sighed again and Iruka looked at him worriedly. "Something wrong, Naruto?"  
The blond shook his head 'no', not wishing to cause his guardian any more grief. He knew he'd been more than enough trouble the past few days. "Nothing's wrong," he said, turning his attention back to his plate.

Iruka watched him for a moment or so, before returning to the task of eating. Naruto sighed again and sat back from the table, pushing his plate away from him. Iruka looked at him again. "All right. Now I know something's wrong."

Naruto looked away. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"C'mon, Naruto. What happened?"

Naruto shook his head and got up from the table. "I said I didn't want to talk about it."

"It's about Sasuke, isn't it?"

Naruto froze in the doorway. He turned back to look at Iruka, incredulous. "H-how. . ."

Iruka smiled gently. "Intuition. C'mere and tell me what happened," he commanded gently and Naruto was obliged to sit down.

They sat in silence for a moment or two. Naruto twiddled his thumbs anxiously. "It's really not his fault," the blond said at last, leaning on the table.

Iruka raised an eyebrow. "What's not who's fault?"

"It wasn't Sasuke's fault. I mean, I really wish he'd talk to me, but ya know, he can't really be blamed for not wanting to after what happened."

"What happened?" Iruka inquired.

Naruto sighed heavily. "Well. . .it's kind of complicated. . ." He glanced shyly up at Iruka and continued. "It started on Friday, and. . ."

Somehow, Naruto managed to relate the entire tale. "And now he's not talking to me," he finished miserably and lay his head down on the table.

Iruka just stared in disbelief. "You. . .did what?" he asked. He wasn't looking at Naruto, but rather the wall behind him.

Naruto didn't bother to respond. There was silence between them for a moment or two, then Iruka said, softly, yet firmly, "Naruto. I don't want you to even look at Sasuke. You're. . .you're too young for that kind of stuff. I.. .want. . .Go to your room."  
Naruto got up without argument and left the room. Iruka looked at the table.

- - - - - - - - - -

Sakura glanced at the door warily, then picked up the phone. Hastily, she dialled a number. The phone rang once, twice, thrice.

She glanced at the door again. Her parents were fighting again. Silently, she willed them to stay away for a moment or two more, just long enough for her to make her call.

She could feel the skin around her eye bruising. Blood pounded through her head. She felt dizzy, she felt sick. Her breathing was harsh, no matter how she tried to clam herself. Tears wetted the broken skin of her cheeks, as they coursed down her face. She held a hand to her lips in an effort to stop sobbing.

They hated her, oh, they hated her so! They were warring over her, vying for her affections, offering her gifts, getting angry when she took the other's side, calling her names, claiming she didn't love them.

She loved them! She truly did love her parents! How would she have survived without them? What if she had been tossed to the wolves like Naruto? She surely wouldn't have survived. She loved them, she was thankful for them! And now, they were trying to tear her apart, pulling her apart limb by limb, shredding up her insides. She loved them more when they didn't fight. She loved them more when they didn't hate her. When they hated her, when they fought, she hated them.

Her father had struck her. They were fighting now, screaming that they were the better parent, that the girl was right to love her mother more; that she was a wretched little whore to love her mother more.

The footsteps where coming closer. She felt so scared, so sick. She was shaking so badly, she couldn't breathe properly. She felt desperate, so desperate that she was beginning to feel as if she wasn't there, as if it were someone else's eyes she was looking through.

The phone rang again. And again.

Silently, she willed her saviour to pick up. She squeezed her eyes shut. 'Pick up, pick up, I know you're there. . .'

She glanced back at the door, only to hear the footsteps stop. Her breath hitched. Her eyes widened. Her grip on the phone tightened. 'Pick up before they. . .'

The door creaked open and two wraithlike figures, cut out of shadows in the midst of the light, stood in the doorway, announcing her doom.  
The phone rang again.

- - - - - - - - -

Ino heard the phone. She scowled and chewed at her pencil, ignoring it and going back to her homework.

"Two times five, divided by sixteen, multiplied by -"

The phone rang again, and she glanced up irritably at the noise. Her train of thought had just jumped off a cliff. "Can somebody get that!" she hollered, hoping that someone would pick up the object of her bane.

The noise persisted. Sighing, she slammed her pencil down and got up, storming down the hall. "I'll get it," she mumbled, trudging downstairs.

It rang again. And again. And it rang once more, just for good measure, as she walked into the kitchen. "I'm coming, I'm coming," she growled at it. "Hold your horses."

She picked it up. "Hello?"

The line went dead. She gritted her teeth and slammed it down. "Jerk!" she screamed at it.

Somebody had interrupted her and made her walk all the way down here, just to hang up on her! She glared at the caller I.D. 'Jerk' wasn't going to get away that easily. She stared at the number for a moment blankly, seemingly recognized it from somewhere.

"Oh, shit -"

She grabbed her coat. She grabbed her shoes. She practically flew out the door, down the walk. She ran down the street, her feet pounding the asphalt, her blonde hair streaming out behind her. That was Sakura's number! The girl rarely called her, except for when she was in trouble. She'd let it ring about ten times - Sakura must have really been pressed for time, or something and -

Her thoughts were jumbled. Was Sakura hurt? She knew things weren't good at the other's household right now, but surely -

Her parents wouldn't hurt her, right? She tried to find some reassuring statement, made by someone, in the midst of her confused rambling. She couldn't.

'Shit, shit, shit, shit -'

She mentally berated herself for missing that call! Sakura could be hurt really bad, or lying in a ditch somewhere, or gods knew what else, for all she knew! The other girl relied on her, had made Ino her saviour, and now!

She flew up the driveway, gravel being churned up by her shoes. She skidded to a stop and pounded on the door. She stood back a moment, trying to regain her breath. Her lungs burnt with every breath she took.

The door opened slightly and timidly, someone looked out. "Hello?" said a voice that Ino knew to be Mrs. Haruno's.

"Hi," the blonde girl said, a little breathlessly, smiling shyly up at the woman. "Is Sakura home?"

Mrs. Haruno shook her head 'no'. Ino felt her stomach twist up. The woman had a vibrant red mark on her left cheek. Ino looked about nervously. What if something bad had happened to Sakura?

"Will she be home soon?" Ino found herself asking.

Mrs. Haruno shrugged. "You can come in and wait, if you want," she said softly, as if afraid of the blonde teen in front of her.

Ino nodded graciously and stepped inside the foyer. She slipped off her shoes. She walked into the house, up the stairs to her friend's room. She knew that when she was invited in to wait, Mrs. Haruno meant she could wait in Sakura's room. It was always howthe household worked, and Ino now knew the reason for it. She opened the door to find Sakura very much at home, sitting in her room.

The lights were off and the window was open. Ino shut the door. "Sakura?"

The pink-haired girl looked up and then back down. "Ino. . ."

Ino could already guessed what had happened. Sakura had gotten out and back in through her window. Her parents thought she wasn't home. Sakura had used that trick when they were smaller. She still had the rope and she always left the window unlocked.

"I'm sorry I didn't get your call," Ino murmured, keeping her voice low, so as not to rouse suspicions.

Sakura merely shrugged. Ino sat down beside her and for a little while, they were content like that, just sitting. Ino glanced at her friend. "Sakura," she said upon impulse. "Look at me."

Her companion glanced up at her, quickly, and then meant to look away, but Ino grabbed her chin and held her fast. Blue eyes met green and read most of the story in them. Ino sighed and looked away. "Your dad?" she asked quietly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sakura nod. The smaller girl curled her knees to her chest. "I. . .I wish. . ," she started, then stopped, looking at the floor for answers.

"What do you wish?" Ino asked, prompting her friend to continue.

Sakura looked at her, and her eyes were full of vehement contempt and spite. "I wish they hated me! Then they wouldn't fight over who I love more. Then I wouldn't have to put up with this shit. I hate them so much. They're purposely trying to make me pick sides - I don't want to! I don't like one better than the other! I hate them both!"

She rested her head on her knees then, shoulders shaking with her silent sobbing. Ino bit her lip, unsure of what to say, then laid her hand on Sakura's shoulder. "I wish I could help, but. . ."

Sakura didn't respond. Then, she said, her knees muffling her voice, "Help me make them hate me."

Ino raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Make them hate me, Ino. You and I, we can do anything together! We're unstoppable."

The other girl looked back up at her, and her eyes were passionate, overcome with emotion. Ino didn't know what to say. "Sakura. . ," she breathed, unsure of the change that had overcome her friend.

She didn't know what else to do. It came almost naturally. Those eyes held her captive, and so, it was only fair to capture something of Sakura's. Her lips were petal soft in the brief instant they were against her own.

Sakura stared at her, dumbfounded and Ino could only concur with her friend's confusion. "Ino. . ."

"Sakura. . ." Ino blushed and looked down at her feet.

"I'm sorry." Sakura laughed, bitterly. "Don't be sorry!"

She looked at her friend and said earnestly, "That's one way to make them hate me."

Ino blinked in confusion. Then, her confusion was overwrought by surprise.

- - - - - - - -

"Good morning," Iruka said, greeting the band cheerfully.

"Good morning, Sensei," they droned back, sounding more like buzzing bees than anything human. It was too early by their standards to be cheerful.

"Today, we have a new student with us. I'd like you all to say hello to Gaara. He's going to be playing the oboe for us."

Naruto glanced over at the indicated student. Gaara had flaming red hair, and no eyebrows. Naruto wondered briefly if that was because he dyed his hair and his eyebrows didn't match, so he shaved them off.

He could barely see Gaara's eyes, but he did determine that they were an odd shade of green. They were rimmed with heavy black eyeliner, giving the impression that Gaara was some sort of punk.

As if he had felt himself being scrutinized, Gaara glanced up at Naruto, and smiled. The odd thing about was that he didn't really smile, per se, as his lips twitched upwards in a nasty expression. It promised violence. Naruto shuddered under that gaze and quickly turned back to his music. He decided that he didn't like Gaara much.

Sasuke, meanwhile, was also scrutinizing the newcomer. His judgement, however, was less noticeable than Naruto's, as he could just glance to the side and see the newbie. Naruto had to turn around to see anybody, which was much more obvious.

Sasuke saw Gaara lift his head and smile nastily at Naruto. He had to force himself to stay in his seat. The way Gaara looked at Naruto made him nervous, made him feel protective of Naruto. There was something predatory in Gaara's gaze and Sasuke didn't like it one bit.

Speaking of Naruto, he still had to apologize to the other boy. If he didn't want to lose Naruto, he had to apologize for not talking to him. He sighed and lifted his flute to his lips, because Iruka was giving them the start signal.

His eyes kept darting back to Naruto. He really hoped he hadn't hurt the blond's feelings too much. He didn't want Naruto to be. . .upset because of him.

Many gruelling minutes and several start-overs later, Iruka dismissed them. The band members slowly filtered out of the room, heading to their various lockers and classes.

Naruto nearly jumped when somebody placed a hand on his shoulder. He glanced back, half expecting to see Iruka or even Sasuke.

Instead, he saw cold, green eyes. Gaara smiled at him. "Hello," he said and his voice sent chills down Naruto's spine.

The red-haired boy smiled and studied Naruto, as if memorizing every detail of his face. Naruto tried to tear his eyes away, but he was held, both by fascination and fear. Absently, Gaara reached up and stroked the blond boy's cheek with his forefinger and thumb.

Gaara smiled. He'd transferred to this school about a week ago. He'd noticed Naruto his very first day at the new learning institution. He recalled sitting by himself in the cafeteria, about two tables away from where the blond had been sitting, alone as well.

He'd been fascinated. Here was another creature like himself, when he'd thought himself alone in the world. Here was another who understood what it meant to be the social reject, to be alone. The only thing he couldn't understand was why anybody would reject the blond. He was pleasing to the eye, and he seemed no more harmful than any of the others there. Then again, he supposed that society just couldn't accept some people. People like himself, people who were a little bit different.

From that moment onward, he had tried to find out what set Naruto apart, what made him different. He had been tailing the blond for the last week, taking note of where he went, why he went and who he went with. That was the reason he had joined this stupid band in the first place. He wanted to find out what made Naruto so. . .special, as he called it.

"How are you, Naruto?" he practically purred, gauging the blond's reaction. He nearly laughed when he found it, because he'd expected nothing less.

Fear.

"H-how did you know my name?" The question started out in earnest surprise, and then the words became angry. Gaara smirked.

"I know quite a bit about you."

Naruto blinked, wracking his brain, trying to remember if he'd seen Gaara somewhere before, talked to him before. He didn't think he had. Heck, he didn't think Iruka had even introduced the eyebrow-less freak to any of the band members individually. How did he know his name!

Gaara smirked, watching confusion darken Naruto's fair features. His moment of triumph was ruined, however. Sasuke, who had been standing silent in the background throughout the entire exchange, had pulled Naruto away by his arm, positioning himself between Gaara and Naruto. Gaara frowned. Naruto blinked stupidly in surprise. Sasuke threw an angry glare over his shoulder at Gaara. "Excuse me," he gritted out, "but I need to talk to Naruto."

Gaara's face twisted into an angry scowl. "As you wish," he said begrudgingly, and bowed out of the room without another word. Sasuke turned back to Naruto.

"Thanks," the blond breathed, a smile spreading across his face.

Sasuke shrugged. "Listen, Naruto. . .I. . .uh. . ."

Naruto smiled. "It's okay, Sasuke," he said, as if he knew exactly what the other boy was trying to say. "I'm sorry too."

He hugged Sasuke then and Sasuke could only blush and look surprised. Hesitantly, he wrapped his own arms about Naruto, revelling in the feeling of holding the other boy close.

"Aw, another sweet and sappy moment," somebody cackled.

Sasuke glared in the direction of the voice. Orochimaru smirked at him. "So cute," the older boy said mockingly.

"Screw off," Sasuke growled. Orochimaru just laughed.

Naruto pulled back from the embrace, glancing at the clock. "We need to get to class," he said.

- - - - - - -

Gaara curled his lip in disgust, watching the dark-haired asshole exit the music room with Naruto. Just who did that jerk think he was! He had no right to interrupt him while he was talking to Naruto.

Naruto certainly seemed glad of his company thought, Gaara noted bitterly as he watched the pair manoeuver down the crowded halls. He grunted in annoyance and turned, ready to head for his own class.

He changed his mind suddenly and headed for the nearest set of double doors. He needed to get away. He needed air. He needed to think and plan.

He needed a cigarette.

- - - - - - - -

Kiba glanced up from his book, watching as Sasuke and Naruto walked into the classroom. His expression darkened and his lip curled into a sneer, but nobody could see it, because his face was buried in the book.

He hated Sasuke. Sasuke was such an arrogant asshole. He acted like the rest of the world was inferior and that bugged Kiba. What made Sasuke so great? He didn't get it. Shikamaru was every inch as smart as Sasuke, but he didn't get that kind of recognition. Sometimes, this world made no sense.

Kiba half suspected that it was because Sasuke was the son of a wealthy business man, that everyone respected him. He didn't doubt that if the other boy had been as stupid as shit, that the teachers still would have loved him to death, just because his father was practically paying their wages.

And now, since Sasuke's parents were dead, everybody pitied him. They pitied him and said he distanced himself as a way to express his pain and they forgave him for being such a prick. Kiba didn't buy that. Sasuke had been distant long before his parents were dead. Sasuke was just a prick, and there was no need to forgive him, or pity him.

Kiba felt he had every reason to make fun of Sasuke. That kid needed to be brought down a peg or two. He needed to learn he was just like everyone else. Making fun of him, publically humiliating him, was just the way to kill all that stupid pride he had.

Kiba shifted his gaze to Naruto. He gritted his teeth. The blond was just, in general, annoying. He was always bubbly and bright. Nothing seemed to bring him down. He was stupid, he knew nothing and yet he bragged about how great he was. He'd never amount to anything at all.

Kiba glared at him. He hated Naruto, he hated everything about Naruto. He hated the way the boy talked, the presence he had. He even hated how the kid walked. In Kiba's opinion, Naruto was like a crime against humanity.

'They deserve what they get,' he thought bitterly, glancing at his book, then off to his left.

Hinata was sitting beside the open window, thoroughly absorbed in her book. Kiba nearly sneered. The girl was such an idiot, wasting her time crushing on Naruto. She deserved so much better.

He glanced to his right, looking forward, spotting Sakura and Ino passing notes. He wasn't sure who was worse: Hinata for liking Naruto, or Sakura and Ino for liking Sasuke. Girls were idiots.

He looked back at his book. He didn't really focus on the text, but rather, his thoughts. Everyone was so blind. They were all idiots. They were selfish, self-centred pigs. All they thought about was how sad their lives were, or how great they were, or how they loved somebody. They didn't even know what love was. They were just infatuated.

The words blurred before his angry eyes. They got what they deserved, they got what they deserved, they got what they deserved. . .

Sasuke and Naruto deserved every bad word they ever received, every insult that came their way. He snuck a glance at Naruto. The blond was seemingly so harmless, so weak and fragile. He'd shown the class another side of himself lately and it made Kiba wonder.

Maybe Naruto wasn't so bad. Maybe Naruto didn't deserve what he got. He certainly hadn't deserved what had come his way. Kiba sighed and tried to make the words on the page make sense again.

- - - - - - - - -

Ino sank into the seat next to Shikamaru. The dark-haired boy raised an eyebrow, slightly baffled by his friend's exasperated expression. He was about ask a question, when his attention was diverted by the blonde girl's lunch. He reached forward to snag a fry and got his hand slapped.

Ino glared at him. He glared back. "Bitch," he muttered.

"Mooch," she retorted, sticking her tongue out at him.

He rolled his eyes. "What's up now? You look like something tragic just happened."

He leaned back in his chair and waited for her to reply. She glanced nervously about, then turned to face him. "Don't tell anybody, okay?"

He could barely hear her over the noise of the cafeteria. Still, he nodded and waited for her to continue. Her blue eyes darted about. "I. . .kissed Sakura."

Shikmaru raised an eyebrow, silently prompting his friend to continue. Ino sighed. "She called last night and I missed the call, so I went over to her house and . .well. . .yeah," she finished, looking at her laid-back friend.

For some reason, she really cared what Shikamaru thought of her. He was her best friend, he had been for a long time, and he was her confidante. He listened to everything, and then, when he offered advice, it was usually fairly sound. She watched his face for signs of disgust or shock.

He merely shrugged. "Good for you," he said.

Ino felt her face twist up in anger. She had expected more of a reaction. She wanted him to tell her that it was wrong and that it was disgusting! If his reaction was negative, she would be able to quell the confusing feelings swimming about in her stomach.

But no, Shikamaru would never give her a negative reaction, let alone much of a reaction, because he knew it would piss her off. Just the same as giving her no reaction did, because no reaction wasn't helping her!

She looked away and stared sorrowfully at her lunch. "Hey," she said softly.

Shikamaru glanced at her. She offered him the plate of fries. "Help yourself," she said, feeling as if she needed to make amends. She really shouldn't be mad at Shikamaru. After all, it wasn't his fault she had kissed another girl.

Shikamaru eyed her warily and reached for a fry. She sighed.

- - - - - - - - -

"Hey."

Itachi glared at his boyfriend. "What the hell are you doing on my doorstep at. . ." He glanced at the clock. "Ten o'clock on a Tuesday night?"

Orochimaru shrugged. "Do I need an excuse?"

"Yes."

Orochimaru sighed. "Itachi, you're such a prick sometimes."

The other boy smirked and moved aside, allowing Orochimaru into the house. "I try," he said smugly.

Orochimaru walked into the house and slipped off his shoes. Then, he pivoted and swept Itachi up into his arms. The other boy clung to him, as if afraid of falling, then glared at him. "Put me down."

"Never!"

Orochimaru made quite a show of waltzing about the living room, Itachi cradled in his arms, before settling down on the sofa. Itachi punched him playfully. "Idiot," he hissed. "What do you think my brother would do if he saw that?"

"Laugh," Orochimaru retorted, rubbing his nose against Itachi's.

Itachi laughed lightly. "I'll kill you, I swear," he laughed softly, trying to push his way out of his boyfriend's grip.

Orochimaru was more yielding than he expected and when he was released from the embrace, he tumbled right off the sofa, onto the floor.

"Jerk," he hissed.

Orochimaru merely snickered at his misfortune. Itachi grumbled and clambered back onto the couch. "So. . .what did you want?" he asked, glancing at his significant other curiously.

"I wanted to know if you wanted to have a party on Friday," Orochimaru said nonchalantly.

"Oh, no. . .not another one of your parties," Itachi groaned. "Your parties are always disasters, Orochimaru. Gods, I don't even want to remember the last one."

Orochimaru smirked slyly. "Hey, it was all good while you were drunk."

Itachi huffed. "It wasn't so good after I found my house trashed. And after I was hung-over. And after I was sore and abused and -"

"You liked it while we were doing it."

Itachi glowered. "I'm not hosting another of your parties. If you want to have another party, you can have it at your own place."

"Sweetie -"

"Don't you dare! I'm not going to do it! I will never have another party in this house!"

About half-an-hour later, Itachi was wondering how the hell Orochimaru convinced him to host the party as he sat with the other boy and tried to make a list of all the things they would need for Friday night.

- - - - - - - - -


	7. Cacophony

(Author's Note: If you're reading, please remember to review! All warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 7: Cacophony

Iruka sighed in frustration, his eyes scanning over the papers he was grading. These students honestly had no clue how to read or write music. . .

"Something wrong?"

He glanced up to see his all-time favourite teacher, one Hatake Kakashi, sitting opposite of him at the table in the lounge. He wondered vaguely why he hadn't noticed him before. He shoved the matter aside and answered his crush. "Yes. . .these kids really know nothing about music, even though they claim they've taken a course before. Makes me wonder about their teacher."

Kakashi held his hand out and said, "Here. Let me see."

Iruka blinked and handed him a paper. The silver-haired man looked over it, then snorted. "Even I could have taught them what that means. . .and how to write that. . .and -"

He glanced at Iruka, who, he realized, was giving him a funny look. "What?"

"I didn't know you knew anything about music," Iruka said, almost shyly.

Kakashi shrugged. "I took guitar lessons for a little while. I play the piano now. . .when I find the time," he added, noting the other teacher was still giving him a funny look.

Iruka smiled. "Really? That's. . .cool. Naruto plays the piano too." 

Kakashi blushed at the compliment, but waved it off and said, laughing, "Naruto! That little terror plays piano?"

Iruka nodded solemnly. "Yes, he does. He's really very good." 

Kakashi didn't know why, but he felt slightly jealous of Naruto right then. He didn't like the idea of Iruka giving the blond his praise. "My instructor said I was a prodigy," he muttered, almost defensively.

Iruka brightened. "Really? Maybe you could come over some time and give Naruto some pointers. . ."

He blushed, realizing that he had just, once again, accidentally invited Kakashi to his home. Kakashi smiled. "That could be. . .interesting."

Iruka swore that the man must have known about his crush. The evil little grin gave him away.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Hey, hey guys! Party at Itachi's on Friday night!" Orochimaru exclaimed as he practically pranced into home room.

Itachi mentally started beating his head against the desk. Why, oh, why did Orochimaru continue to do stupid things such as this!

"So, a party, eh?"

"That sounds like fun!"

"Count me in!"

"Booze! Will there be booze! Ya gotta have booze!"

Within seconds, the entire class was abuzz with the topic of said "party". Orochimaru took his seat. Itachi glared at him. "How many people do you plan to tell?" he asked acidly.

Orochimaru smirked. "I'm going to tell all the kids in your classes, and my classes, and hell, maybe even some of the other classes!"

Itachi groaned and rolled his eyes. "You're not inviting over two hundred people to this goddamn party."

"Sure I am."

Itachi glared. Orochimaru mock-glared right back. Itachi sighed. "You're doing this just because you don't have to clean up."

Orochimaru smiled. "Aw, I'll help you clean up," he said with a sly wink. "I don't think you'll be able to stand up afterwards." 

Itachi coloured a bit and hissed, "Jerk," before promptly ignoring Orochimaru.

- - - - - - - - -

"Friday night, you know the feeling is right," Orochimaru sang, trying to grope his boyfriend. Itachi pushed him away.

"Will you get off me and stop singing like you're already drunk!"  
It was only half past six, on the night of the by-now notorious party. Everyone who was anyone was on their way, and even some people who weren't. Some of the kids from younger grades were planning to show up too, just because it was common knowledge that Orochimaru's parties were never boring. They were the talk of the town for weeks on end afterward.

All in all, Itachi estimated that over half the school was coming to this party. He was planning on getting so hammered, he wouldn't be able to get up in the morning. He didn't want to face the mess. Maybe he'd make Sasuke clean up. 

Orochimaru was smirking and still trying to feel him up. He was still swatting the wandering hands away. "Aw," Orochimaru pouted. "You know you wanna."

Itachi snorted and glared, slapping the back of the other's hand viciously. Orochimaru winced and pulled away. "Meanie," he pretended to pout. Itachi rolled his eyes.

The doorbell rang unexpectedly. Itachi raised an eyebrow and glanced at Orochimaru. The other shrugged. Itachi sighed and got off the couch, walking to the door. He opened the door to reveal. . .

Naruto. He stared down at the short tenth grader, who looked back up at him with his big, blue eyes. The mental version of himself was bashing his head against the door. Joy upon joy, Sasuke's little "boyfriend" was here. Wonderful.

". . .Sasuke here?"

Itachi blinked and nearly asked, "What?" He held his tongue at the last moment, realizing the blond was asking for his brother. "Yeah, he's here."

An evil idea crossed his mind and with an evil idea, came the evil smirk. It spread across his features and he stepped aside, gesturing for Naruto to come in. "Come on in. He's upstairs."

Naruto didn't seem to notice the evil aura that now hung about Itachi. "Thanks!" he said brightly and all but skipped into the house.

Itachi shut the door, still grinning. Oh, he had such an evil idea. . . 

Orochimaru glanced over at his boyfriend and shuddered. Itachi was grinning. That was definitely not good.

- - - - - - - - -

Ino poked Sakura in the shoulder. The pink-haired girl glared at her. "What?"

The blonde smiled. "We should go to that party. Sasuke might be there."  
Sakura snorted. "Yeah, right. Why would Sasuke ever go to a party?"

Ino looked thoughtful. "Hmm. . .I dunno. . .Maybe 'cause it's at his house!"

Sakura looked dumbfounded. "Really?" she asked after a moment, already brightening.

Ino nodded. Sakura smiled. "Okay," she said. "We'll go."

Ino rolled her eyes. Sakura was plotting something. She just knew it.

- - - - - - - - -

Sasuke and Naruto's quiet conversation was interrupted about eight o'clock, by the arrival of loud noise from the outside. Sasuke raised an eyebrow and looked at the floor, as if he could see through it. "What the hell are they doing?" he muttered.

Naruto just looked confusedly at the other boy. "What's with all the noise? Why's it so loud? It isn't always this loud at your house, is it?"

"No," Sasuke snapped, giving the blond a glare.

Naruto shut up.

Itachi had cleverly "forgot" to inform his brother that he was having a party. Naruto just wasn't informed of anything, ever, so it was no surprise that he had no clue what was going on.

Sasuke walked to the door. "Come on," he said, glancing back at Naruto. "Let's go see what's happening down there."

He had a feeling it was something that would probably lead to the destruction of the house. He padded out of his room, and to the stairs. Naruto followed him closely.

Sasuke stopped at the bottom of the stairs, eyeing his living room. Currently, there were about a hundred people, talking, drinking, smoking, doing drugs, dancing, making out - just about everything wrong in the history of history. Sasuke's eyes were about the size of dinner plates. "What the -"

Naruto crashed into him, sending them both sprawling on the floor. "Oops, sorry," Naruto muttered, getting up.

Sasuke growled and glanced about the room. The music was pounding into his temples, boring holes in his head, and he hadn't even been down here for five minutes!

He spied his brother sitting on a table, giggling drunkenly. He had a bottle of vodka in his hand. Orochimaru was on his knees in front of Itachi, licking his. . .toes. Sasuke wanted to gag. Instead, though, he marched through the crowded living room, a scowl planted firmly on his face.

He didn't stop until he was standing right beside Itachi. "Itachi!" he screamed, though it didn't sound like he did. The music was too loud.

The older Uchiha looked at the younger. "Hee, hi 'suke? Whatsa matter?"

Sasuke glared, thinking of an answer. "What the fuck is going on here!"

Itachi giggled some more and handed him the vodka. "There 'suke, have that. Makes partying all the better."

He giggled some more and kicked Orochimaru. "Stop that!"

Sasuke stared at the vodka, then looked at his brother. It was official. Itachi was drunk. Or insane. Whichever came first. Itachi glanced back at him. "Well, go on. Drink it. Not like it's poison, or anything."

Orochimaru, who had taken Itachi's toes out of his mouth, decided to add his two-sense. "Yeah! Drink it! And share some with your boyfriend!"

Sasuke was tempted to smash the bottle over Orochimaru's head for that comment. Instead, he stormed away, not realizing he still had the vodka in his hand. He stormed back across the room, to find Naruto looking a little lost and confused.

Sasuke looked at him funny. "What's wrong with you?"

Naruto blinked. "I have just been. . .groped. . .at least fifteen times within the last five minutes." The blond shuddered, as if to emphasis his point. 

Sasuke sighed and offered him the vodka. "Drink that. You'll soon forget."

Naruto took it eagerly, not realizing what it was. He took a big swig of it, then coughed and started choking. "You idiot," Sasuke hissed.

"What is that stuff!"

"Vodka," Sasuke answered stiffly. 

Naruto choked even more. Sasuke rolled his eyes. "Oh, it's not so bad!"

He took a swig of the stuff himself. "See?" he asked, smirking mockingly.  
"Give me that," Naruto growled, scowling. He snagged the alcohol back and took a huge gulp and choked it back.

Not about to be out-done, Sasuke grabbed the bottle back and swallowed the remainder. He smirked smugly in Naruto's direction.

"Oh no, you don't!" the blond cried, swiping a bottle of something or other off one of the tables. He downed it in one go.

Sasuke stared at him, then growled. He wasn't about to be beaten by Naruto! He took a quick survey of the room, then bounded across the room, finding a spot where alcohol seemed to be in abundance. Naruto stumbled after him.

By eight-thirty, both boys were thoroughly drunk. Not pleasantly drunk, more of drunk-off-their-asses. The competition had long been forgotten. Naruto clung unsteadily to Sasuke's arm as they struggled to remain standing.

"Holy shit," Naruto said suddenly.

Sasuke glanced at him, trying to make sense of the fuzzy picture his brain was telling his eyes he was seeing. "What?" he slurred.

"You're pretty when I'm drunk," Naruto chortled, then collapsed to the ground, taking Sasuke with him.

"Yeah, well. . .you're hot," Sasuke said after a moment, trying to find a suitable comeback.

That sent Naruto into hysterics. Sasuke could only stare at him for a moment, before dissolving in helpless laughter too. They rolled about on the floor a bit, giggling. Then, they bumped noses, which led to a rather sloppy kiss. Sasuke hazily noted that they both tasted disgustingly like booze.

Naruto didn't seem to mind though, and Sasuke couldn't really complain. They were buzzing with a warm burning feeling. Something of an alcohol-induced frenzy had seized them and they were mashing their faces together, sparring with their tongues.

Sasuke bit Naruto. He tasted copper blood in his mouth and vaguely, he heard Naruto give a muffled cry.

He pulled himself away from the blond. Naruto stared at the ceiling, panting. "Oh, gods," he gasped. "Sasuke -" 

"What?"

"Gods, Sasuke -"  
"Stop rambling, you drunken idiot!" Sasuke laughed, giving Naruto a playful slap.

The blond looked at him then, his eyes intensely focussed for how drunk he was supposed to be. The sky blue had turned dark, like sapphire, ridden with lust. "Fuck me, Sasuke," Naruto said at last.

That was almost enough to shake Sasuke from his drunken stupor. "What!" he cried, looking at the blond, who merely smiled back. "You're drunk," Sasuke concluded.

"And so are you," Naruto returned, "which means that anything that happens can't be our fault."

Sasuke blinked rapidly, several times over. "Does alcohol increase your IQ or something, Naruto?" he asked quizzically. "You make more sense when you're drunk than when you're sober."

"Call it a gift, shut up, and screw me," the blond growled, looping his arms about Sasuke's neck and pulling him down on top of himself. 

Within mere seconds, they were kissing again, groping and - 

The rest of the night became a blur.

- - - - - - - -

Morning sunlight streamed in through the window. Groggily, with his head pounding like a million drummers were drumming upon it, Sasuke cracked open an eye. "Ugh. . ."

The room was blurry at first, and then, gradually came into focus, despite the fact that made his eyes hurt. His hair was straggling across his face. He felt sick.

He noted that he was lying in his room, on his bed, under his covers. That, however, didn't explain why he felt so horrible. He decided he was coming down with the flu.

But his mind was working against him. Vaguely, it seemed to piece together the puzzle of the night before. Vodka, Itachi, party, vodka, Naruto, some more alcoholic beverages. . .

All right, so maybe he'd gotten drunk. Maybe he'd gotten drunk at Itachi's party. But. . .wouldn't he have been passed out on the floor downstairs? Itachi wouldn't have moved him if he had passed out. He couldn't think of anyone else that would have. And that certainly didn't explain why the sheets were rubbing against his skin like he was. . .

Oh, indeed. He was naked. That explained it. But that still didn't bridge the gap between the time he was downstairs drunk to the time he was upstairs naked. He put his head back on the pillow. Thinking made the headache worse.  
Something, or someone rather, beside him groaned and rolled over. He froze. Okay. This was not good. He was naked. And somebody was in bed with him. The nausea of hang-over intensified under this new nervousness.

What if somebody had taken advantage of him? He tried to suppress the thought, but it bubbled up through his clouded mind anyways bringing with it the thought that maybe Itachi was the one lying beside him. He shuddered.

Curiosity killed the cat. And in this case, Sasuke was nearly killed by it too. He glanced over to his left. His eyes met big, blue orbs. Both he and the other occupant of the bed screamed. Sasuke tumbled off the edge of the bed.

Naruto stared at him. He stared at Naruto. They blinked, and stared some more. Naruto had the covers held up to his chest, like a girl in a movie when she's caught having sex. They stared some more, neither saying anything.

Apparently, stupidity can't be washed away by hang-over or alcohol. Naruto made a face, rubbed his back and whine, "Sasuke, why am I so sore? And what are you doing here?" 

Sasuke stared in disbelief at the blond idiot. Didn't he -! How could someone be so stupid! "How can you be so stupid?" Sasuke cried, before he realized he was saying anything at all. 

Naruto looked at him, then sat back in surprise. Sasuke glared as best he could, though his head still hurt. The blond near whispered, "Sasuke. . .you're naked."

Sasuke wondered what the moron would realize next. That the earth revolved around the sun? No, no! That the sky was blue! And then, Naruto would proceed to tell him, that he'd always thought the sky was green!

"You idiot," Sasuke hissed.

Naruto's cheeks slowly coloured, so that he was a pretty shade of crimson. Even his ears were burning with that blush. He looked down at the sheets, then glanced up through his bangs. "Did we-?"

"How should I know?" Sasuke growled, becoming more than irritated. He got up off the floor and commenced a search for his clothes. And Naruto's for that matter too, for the other boy was apparently nude as well.

Naruto looked steadily at the blanket, drawing a swirly design on it with his finger. "What if we did?" he asked after a moment of pensiveness.

Sasuke grunted. "So what if we did?"  
There was a soft thump and he glanced over his shoulder to see that Naruto had flopped back against the pillows. He had a hand over his eyes, as if shielding them. "I can't remember," he said.

"Neither can I," Sasuke said, in an almost sympathetic tone.

"I wanted it to be special," Naruto commented.

Sasuke raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

Naruto flushed crimson again. "Nothing! I just would have liked to remember my first time, thank you!" he snapped. Apparently, Naruto and hang-overs didn't mix well.

The blond sat up. "Jeez! You're such a jerk! This doesn't matter to you at all!" 

Sasuke made no reply. He pulled a shirt over his head. "See! Now you're not gonna talk to me! This isn't my fault!"

Sasuke turned back around. "You think I'm blaming you!"

"It's more your fault than it is mine!"

"How is it my fault!" 

"How is it not!"

"It's not my fault you decided to turn drinking into a competition-"

"Yeah, well, you should have stopped me-"

Sasuke had clambered back onto the bed and was now nose to nose with Naruto. They glared at each other, gritting their teeth. Naruto pulled away first, mumbling, "Insensitive jerk."

"Blond idiot."

They looked away from each other, pointedly not talking to the other. Something started banging. They glanced at each other.

"What's that?" Naruto asked, finally giving in.

"Sounds like somebody knocking on the door," Sasuke said blandly.

Naruto glanced sheepishly at him. "What. . .What if it's Iruka?" 

Sasuke looked as if somebody had struck him. He hadn't thought of that! Naruto wouldn't have known he'd be out all night, and now Iruka was probably worried and looking for him and - 

"Shit. Put your clothes on!"

"I don't know where they are!"

"Well, look for them, moron!"

Naruto looked angry for a split second, then he looked shy. "Umm. . ." 

"Um what?" Sasuke said impatiently, tugging on his shorts.

Naruto blushed, but didn't say anything. "Naruto," Sasuke said, his voice sharp like a blade.

"I'm bleeding," Naruto murmured softly, his cheeks becoming even more pink. Hesitantly, he held up a bloody finger.

Sasuke blinked. "What does that have to do with -"

"Oh," he muttered, realizing what Naruto meant. He was bleeding. In that place. He felt his own cheeks heat up. "Well, I guess that answers the did-we-or-did-we-not question," he said darkly.

- - - - - - - -

Itachi was hung-over. Oh, yes. And Itachi being hung-over was never a good thing. Currently, the sun thought it was a good idea to shine directly into his eyes and make his poor head throb harder. 

He wanted to yell at something. Fortunately, there was someone to yell at right beside him!

"Orochimaru!" 

"Huh? Wha?"

Itachi prodded his boyfriend roughly. "Get up, you lazy ass!"

Orochimaru blinked owlishly. "Why?"

Itachi smiled, despite his pounding headache. "You've got to clean up my house."

Orochimaru groaned and flopped back on the pillow. "Do I have to?"

"Yes," Itachi said sternly, sitting up. "You promised," he almost sang, smiling sweetly.

Orochimaru rolled his eyes. "You make me sick, sometimes."  
"Shut up. Or maybe I'll make this a demeaning task." Itachi smiled evilly and Orochimaru shuddered. He wouldn't doubt Itachi could make this degrading.

Somebody knocked on the door downstairs. Both boys stopped and glanced at each other. Itachi snuck a glance at the clock. "Who the fuck would be here so early?" he muttered, crawling out of bed.

A few minutes later, they were both dressed and downstairs. Itachi forced a garbage bag on Orochimaru, who sighed and reluctantly began picking up the trash littered across the floor. Itachi went to answer the door.

Who else would be up at the "ungodly" hour of eleven a.m. than a worried parent? In this case, it was Iruka who was standing on the stoop, wringing his hands nervously. Itachi looked mildly surprised. "Iruka-sensei! What are you doing here?" 

Iruka looked at him sheepishly. "Well. . .umm. . .I was wondering if you knew where Naruto was. He never came home last night. . ."

Itachi thought hard for a moment, but couldn't remember anything. Well, he could remember some things, but they weren't relevant to what Iruka was asking, nor were they something he should hear.

"Um. . .Oh! He was here around. . .eight-ish. . .I think. . .He might still be here. I'll go check Sasuke's room - that's where they were."

Itachi invited the school teacher in and went upstairs to see if he could find Naruto. He didn't notice how angry Iruka looked when he mentioned that Sasuke and Naruto had been in Sasuke's bedroom. Alone. Unsupervised.

Itachi padded upstairs and knocked on the door to Sasuke's room. Receiving no reply, he barged into the room. He was met with a rather amusing sight. It might have been disturbing to some, but Itachi found it amusing, somehow.

Naruto was wrapped up in the sheets, kicking and screaming at Sasuke, who was trying to pull a shirt over Naruto's head. Sasuke was fully dressed. Naruto, however, was apparently buck-naked under the sheet, or so Itachi assumed, as the blond's clothes were scattered all over the floor. What made it even more amusing, was the idea of what they had been doing. Itachi covered his mouth with his hand.

Both boys glanced up at him. Sasuke glared. "What do you want?" 

Itachi smiled and shook his head. He appealed to Naruto. "Iruka's looking for you."

The blond paled, and snatched his shirt from Sasuke, hastily pulling it over his head.   
Itachi looked at his brother. "So," he said with a smirk. "Did you two have fun?"

Sasuke said blandly, "We don't remember."

Itachi blinked. "You don't remember! Shit, you must have had a lot to drink!"

Sasuke didn't comment. Instead, he handed Naruto his pants. The blond struggled into them, then flew by Itachi, out the door, down the stairs and into the foyer. Or, he would have. Pain caught up with him first and he managed to stumble out into the hall. "Ow!"

Itachi raised an eyebrow and looked at his brother. Sasuke shrugged and strolled out into the hall. "Idiot," he said to Naruto, offering the blond his hand.

He helped Naruto limp down the stairs. Iruka gave them a funny look as they rounded the corner. "Good morning, Iruka!" Naruto practically chirped.

"Good morning, Naruto. Sasuke." He nodded to them respectively. He looked at Naruto. "What happened?"

Naruto glanced at Sasuke nervously. "I. . .uh. . .fell down the stairs and twisted my ankle?" He grinned stupidly and laughed nervously.

Iruka frowned. "Naruto. You're no good at lying. Tell me what really happened."

Naruto lowered his head in shame. His ears went red. Iruka glanced at Sasuke. The dark-haired boy shrugged and said, "We got drunk. We had sex."

Iruka reeled back in surprise. "You what!"

Naruto glared at Sasuke through his bangs. Sasuke just shrugged.

Iruka wasn't sure what to do. Naruto looked at him sorrowfully. "It was an accident, I swear!"

Iruka's mouth was set in a firm line. "Accident or no! You still did it! Gods! And you were drinking! You! Naruto! You're grounded!"

Naruto's eyes widened. "Eh?" 

Iruka grabbed Naruto by the ear and dragged him forcibly away from Sasuke. Naruto yelped in pain. "Ow! Leggo! It hurts! Iruka!" 

Iruka dragged the boy out of the house. He glared at Sasuke. "And you! Stay away from Naruto!"

He slammed the door on his way out. Sasuke blinked. "That was. . .fucked up."  
- - - - - - - -

Shikamaru poked Ino. And poked her again. And poked her once more for good measure.

She sleepily batted away his arm. "G'way," she muttered and rolled over.

"Ino. . .wake up," Shikamaru said and the blonde girl sat up.

"Wha? Huh? Where am I? Shikamaru!"

Shikamaru rolled his eyes. "You're on my living room couch. You showed up here at about one o'clock in the morning, drunk as shit. You couldn't very well go home like that, so I made you sit on the couch 'til you crashed." 

"Oh," Ino said. She'd forgotten the party already. In fact, most of the night was a blur.

"Was. . .Do you know if Sakura got home?"

Shikamaru nodded. "Yeah. You said she'd been with you, so I went to see if she got home. Lee had been at the party too. He wasn't drunk like you two though, so he escorted Sakura home."

Ino nodded. She hadn't realized what caring friends she and Sakura possessed!

- - - - - - - - 

It was Monday morning. Sasuke was running late. He'd slept in the past two days, and thus, had gotten used to it. Itachi had already left by the time he'd gotten up.

He ran down the street, a piece of toast (breakfast!) clenched between his teeth. He was going to miss the first bell -

He stopped suddenly, nearly running somebody over. "Sorry," he said breathlessly, then glanced at the person. 

It was that freak, Gaara. He glared down at the green-eyed boy, who glared back. It appeared they had a mutual dislike of each other. "Oh," Sasuke said in a particularly nasty tone. "It's you."

Gaara smiled. "So it would seem. And you're Uchiha Sasuke."

"How do you know?" Sasuke said warily, eyeing the other boy.

Gaara just smiled back. Sasuke rolled his eyes. "I don't have time for this."  
He moved as if to walk by Gaara. The other boy grabbed his wrist and twisted cruelly. "On the contrary, Sasuke. We have all the time in the world." 

Sasuke shuddered. Gaara's voice oozed poison. Gaara flung him, somehow snapping Sasuke's wrist in the process. Sasuke landed heavily on the ground. He gritted his teeth in pain, clutched his presumably broken wrist and glared up at Gaara. How had he done that! Gaara was smaller than himself - not much taller than Naruto, and yet -

Gaara leaned over him, smiling nastily. "You're not so high and fucking mighty, Uchiha. It's time to take you down a notch, teach you a lesson."

The crimson-haired boy leaned down and grabbed the Sasuke's broken wrist, and twisted it cruelly. Sasuke cried out in pain. "Stop," he managed to hiss.

Gaara smirked. "No. Hearing you scream is wonderful. I'm going to make you scream my name, bitch. I'm going to make you scream until your throat's raw. Get it, bitch?"

Sasuke felt the bones in his wrist turning, jabbing at his skin, threatening to puncture. Tears burned at his eyelashes, even though he was trying not to cry. Gaara kept turning the joint, applying more and more pressure. Sasuke, feeling as if he was about to be disjointed and his wrist was going to explode if any more force was exerted, nodded pathetically. 

He understood everything, in a sort of fuzzy clear way. Gaara was going to bodily harm him, but he didn't know how.

Gaara kicked him in the ribs and smiled. "Good, bitch. Now, get up." 

Sasuke did as he was told. He was scared, for the first time in his life. Gaara glared up at him. "Try anything funny, and your blond boyfriend gets it."

Now Sasuke knew he had no choice, no chance to get Gaara back, to escape. If Gaara could break his wrist, just like that, he could only imagine what the crimson-haired fiend would do to Naruto. He wouldn't risk it. He couldn't risk Naruto's safety, even if it meant sacrificing his own.

Vaguely, he was aware that Gaara had looped something about his neck. It was a leash, he realized. Gaara snapped the lead viciously, making Sasuke's head snap forward. "Come on, bitch! Walk!" the crimson-haired freak commanded.

Sasuke did as he was told. He'd get away, he'd escape, he'd get Gaara back, just as soon as he could. He just had to bide his time. . .

And suddenly, his world exploded in pain. He was on his knees, his forehead resting against the pavement. Blood flooded down his skin, matting in his eyelashes, obscuring his vision with its mad crimson.  
Gaara had struck him down. He glanced around, through pain-hazed eyes, recognizing his surroundings to be those of an alley. He heard cloth rustling, but he didn't know why. He was so confused. He felt cold suddenly, and realized what Gaara's intentions were.

His eyes widened. He felt bile rise in his throat. Panic filled him, and his blood dashed back and forth through his veins. He wanted to scream and kick and beat Gaara senseless, but he couldn't. His limbs had gone weak on him, and his breath came too fast. The world was spinning about him, crashing down, like a plane out of the atmosphere, spiralling down, down, down, burning all the while -

It tore him apart. He screamed. His knees were cut, bleeding, the gravel biting into them. His hips snapped angrily back and forth at the abuse. Gaara was pulling at his hair, clawing at him, his nails piercing his skin. The gravel bit into his palms, making them cry blood.

He was crying openly. Oh, gods! It hurt! He could feel blood seeping down the insides on his thighs and he wanted nothing more than to scream, to make Gaara stop. He was screaming - he screamed until his voice was raw, but he never screamed for the torture to stop. He was in too much pain for words to form coherently.

Blood trickled down his throat. Gaara's voice assaulted his ears. "Dirty whore, aren't you? Come on, fucker! Say something!"

"Stop," Sasuke managed to choke out with a mouthful of blood.

It didn't stop. Gods, why wouldn't it stop! The pain tore through him, wrung another cry from his broken throat. 'Stop, stop, stop!' he cried mentally, begging, wishing something would save him, that by some miracle Gaara would stop, that he would die! No, instead, he was tortured, the agony making him sick, the sickness making him in agony.

Gaara was finished with him. Gaara threw him away. He lay on his side, eyes wide, breathing hard, bleeding. Bruises were already forming. Gaara leaned over him and leered. "On your knees, Uchiha, like a slut! How does it feel! Are you still proud?" 

Sasuke coughed up blood. "Bastard," he growled, wiping blood from his lip.

Gaara laughed scornfully. "Now you see. The world doesn't have to bend over backwards for you, asshole. In fact, there's always going to be someone to knock you on your knees."

Throughout Gaara's little speech, Sasuke had been preparing himself. The red-haired bastard wasn't going to get away with this. Screw how much pain he was in. He was being mocked. He wouldn't stand for it. While Gaara was gloating, Sasuke had hiked his pants back up, ignoring the pain that shot through him.

Gaara was still laughing. Sasuke tackled him, sending him into the nearest wall, decking him. "You little fuck up!"

He grabbed Gaara by the temples and smashed the other boy's head into the wall, over and over again. A bloody streak was left on the wall.

Gaara growled and threw Sasuke off him, leaping at him and sinking his teeth into flesh. They fought bitterly, wrestling, biting, kicking and punching, lashing out with the desperate desire to kill.

They didn't hear the pounding footsteps across the pavement. In fact they didn't hear or see anything except for the enemy until Naruto's voice, shrill with worry and concern, cut through the air. "Sasuke!"

Both boys glanced up to see the short blond, staring wide-eyed, accompanied by Orochimaru and Itachi.

Sasuke spat blood viciously. "Go away," he growled.

He cried out suddenly. Gaara had punched him in the gut while he was distracted. "Why you -"

Orochimaru and Itachi were pulling the two fighters apart in an instant. Itachi restrained Sasuke, and when he deemed them far enough apart, blocked Sasuke's view of his enemy with himself. "Sasuke. . .what the hell's going on here?" 

"Nothing," the other mumbled, glaring at his brother. 

Itachi frowned. "You're bleeding. What happened." It was a demand, not a question.

Gaara, who was struggling against Orochimaru's grip, laughed.

"I'll tell you what happened."

Everyone looked at the red-haired boy. Gaara laughed again. "Sasuke thinks he owns the world. Sasuke thinks everyone needs to lick his feet. So, I fucked him. I threw him on his knees and I fucked him. I showed him that you can't always be on your pedestal. Even gods get knocked down," he finished with a pointed look to Sasuke.

He looked at Naruto. "He thinks he owns you. You're just another toy to him, you know that? He doesn't care about you, not at all. He's using you. He hates you, just like everyone else. He doesn't understand you, not like I do."

He looked at him banefully. "I understand you, Naruto."

The blond covered his ears. "No! You don't understand me! You - you! You freak! How could you! I hate you!"  
Sasuke attempted to lunge at Gaara, but Itachi held him fast. Sasuke pointed a bruised and bloodied finger. "Don't talk to him!"

"See?" Gaara continued. "You think you can boss me around! You think you own me! You're just a stuck up prick who's got his head too far up his ass -"

Gaara slumped over suddenly. Everyone else glanced at Orochimaru, who shrugged. "He's crazy. He needed to be shut up."

Itachi sighed and looked back to his brother. "Did he really. . .umm. . ."

"Rape me? Yes."

Itachi said nothing more, but looked rather grim. Sasuke felt something tug on his arm. He glanced at Naruto. The smaller boy had buried his face in Sasuke's sleeve. He was crying bitterly. "Sasuke! I'm so sorry!"

"Sorry?" Sasuke asked. "For what?"

Naruto raised his tear-stained face to look the other in the eye. "For not being there for you. For not protecting you."

Sasuke sighed. "I was. . .protecting you, Naruto."

- - - - - - - - -


	8. Healing

(Author's Note: If you're reading, please remember to review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 8: Healing

Naruto couldn't reply. He could only stare at Sasuke in shock. Sasuke was. . .protecting him? What was he -

Sasuke smiled weakly, then proceeded to faint. Itachi caught him. Naruto glanced at the older Uchiha. "He needs to go home and rest," Itachi said softly, and Naruto caught a glimmer of worry in his voice.

Itachi turned to Orochimaru. He gestured to Gaara. "Take that to the school nurse. . .Just don't tell her you knocked him out," he added in exasperation.

Orochimaru frowned and hefted the prone boy up off the ground. Itachi did the same with Sasuke. They headed off in their separate directions. Naruto trailed along behind Itachi.

- - - - - -

Kiba slammed the door shut. He really didn't want to be here. The house was run-down, dirty and rank. There were various toys and newspapers and other articles littered across the grimy floor. This place was also noisy. The crying of a small baby and the loud shrieks of a two-year old rent the air. That air was thick with smoke and the fumes of tobacco curled into the air, caressing Kiba's nostrils. He snorted, trying to dislodge the distasteful scent.

He didn't say a word as he ran up the creaky, rotting stairs to his room. A dim yellow light illuminated the hallway. The walls were plastered with a tacky green wallpaper, which was starting to curl away. It had been ripped and torn, spilt and scribbled upon.

The floorboards were in a similar state. They creaked and groaned whenever they were stepped upon. The entire house had an aura of decay and despair.

Kiba threw his books across the room and slammed the warped door of his room. He sat down on the mouldy cot that served as his bed. The sheets were moth-chewed and full of holes. Kiba sat there, glaring at the wall.

They were renting this dump. He still couldn't believe they paid a fat old bastard landlord money to live in this place. It was such a wreck. He would have paid people not to live here.

His family had lived here for about a month and a half. They couldn't afford anything else, not since his father died about two months ago. His mother, the lazy whore, didn't have a job and refused to get one. His father had worked his ass off for the family and then, whatever higher spirit had the gall to go and give him fucking brain cancer.

Kiba had always looked up to his dad. His dad had tried to keep a bright outlook on things. He'd taken a bad situation and tried to make it a better one. His father had given up his dreams of going to college, married the mother of his children and gotten a decent job to support his family. His father had tried to make them respectable, made sure that when they went out, they were dressed well and well-groomed.

His mother didn't give a shit. She was only out for herself. She went on shopping sprees and spent her husband's hard earned money recklessly. Kiba remembered vividly that once, on his birthday, she went out and bought herself a five hundred dollar ring and then blatantly refused to buy him a birthday present. She'd called him selfish.

She never cleaned the house, she didn't cook, she didn't do anything except yell and complain. She slept and she drank and she complained about how she had no money. She cursed her husband and Kiba couldn't help but hate her.

He couldn't understand why everyone else complained. Sasuke had it good. He lived in a nice, big house and he had lots of money. Sakura lived the high life. She was a spoiled, only child. Shikamaru's parents prodded him a bit, but they never asked him to change his little sister's diapers. Ino's family was loving and tightly-knit. Heck, even Naruto had it better than him. The blond loser had Iruka to take care of him and from what he could make of it, Iruka was a complete home-maker.

They thought they had problems. They thought their lives were bad. They bitched and complained, but they never paused to see if maybe there was someone else having as bad a day as they were.

He wiped angry tears from his eyes. People were so arrogant and full of themselves. It made him sick.

- - - - - - - -

Sakura and Ino sat on the floor in Ino's room, giggling. It was one of the rare times that Sakura was actually happy. They were talking about boys and how so-and-so had no fashion sense and in general, very girly topics.

Ino was solemn suddenly, watching her companion. "Hey, Sakura. . ."

The pink-haired girl smiled at her friend. "Yeah?"

"When. . .we. . .uh. . .yanno. Did you. . .like it?"

Sakura paused and frowned. "I. . .don't. . .know. Ino?"

The blonde girl smiled shakily. "Yeah?"

"Did. . .you like it?"

"I don't know. . ."

Before they registered that they were doing it, they had leaned in close to each other and pressed their lips together. It was sweet, for a moment or two, then demanding and Ino began to dominate. She slid her tongue into Sakura's open mouth. Her hands roamed wildly. She felt the other girl, so different from herself, yet in a way, so the same.

She pulled away from the other girl, who stared at her, as if unsure of what to think. Ino studied her face, the way her emerald eyes shone with uncertainty, the way her hair fell across her face and nearly matched the colour of her cheeks.

A small smile crept across Ino's features. "You're very pretty, you know."

Sakura blushed deeply and whispered, "You're pretty too, Ino."

They sat in silence then, slightly apart from each other, reflecting on their actions and words. Neither spoke, feeling estranged at that particular point in time. Sakura picked at the lint on her sock. Ino suddenly found the ceiling very interesting.

"So," Ino said at last, not taking her gaze away from the ceiling.

"Mmm," Sakura replied.

Ino looked at her friend. "Wanna go to the store and get ice cream?" she asked spontaneously.

Sakura glanced sideways at Ino, then nodded affirmatively. Both girls rose. They glanced at each other and giggled, then departed from the room.

- - - - - - - - -

Shikamaru watched the two girls approach. The two awfully familiar girls. He decided that he needed to hide somewhere. What would happen if Sakura and Ino found out he actually had a job!

Of course, it wasn't by his own choice. His parents had practically forced him to apply and then forced the owner of the ice cream shop to give him the job. They said he needed to learn "responsibility". Truthfully, the job wasn't too bad. There weren't many people half the time and when there was, the customers were generally fairly patient and good-natured.

But if Ino found out he had a job! His whole reputation of being a lazy ass would be ruined! He glanced around, frantically trying to find a place to hide. Maybe they would just go away. . .

"Shikamaru?"

Well. Damn. It seemed that Ino had spotted, and recognized him. The blonde girl practically bounced over to the counter. "I didn't know you worked here!"

Shikamaru slowly turned to face her, his features set in a scowl. Ino continued, regardless. "I didn't even know you had a job! I thought you were too lazy to get a job!"

Shikamaru gave her the patented "I-will-kill-you-painfully-and-slowly" glare. Ino started to giggle. Sakura started too. Ino smirked. "Well, pineapple head, I want a double scoop of chocolate in a waffle cone."

Shikamaru grumbled a bit and sulkily went about getting Ino's order. The blonde turned to Sakura. "What would you like?"

"A banana split, Shikamaru," Sakura giggled, joining Ino in making jibes at the boy.

Shikamaru grumbled more.

- - - - - - -

"Of all the rotten luck. . ."

Orochimaru sighed and stared at the stack of papers that the nurse shoved in front of him. He supposed that if he stared long enough and hoped hard enough, the paper might just burst into flames.

He hated hospitals. Hated them with a passion. They smelt funny and they were always so damn white and clean. The doctors and nurses always gave him funny looks too. He glared every time one walked by.

Perhaps his hatred of hospitals stemmed from the fact he'd been in them several times, having blood taken, or this bone reset, or that one, or his jaw wired shut, or another blood transfusion or -

Orochimaru hadn't been the safest child. He'd fallen down numerous stairs, out of several trees, broke his nose about six times fighting, nearly been thrown out a window. . .

Of course, there had also been several rather traumatic accidents, such as that really bad car accident, which left his aunt dead and him bruised, broken and half dead. There had also been that time his mother's boyfriend had repeatedly closed the door on his neck for trying to hide the adults' drugs.  
Hospitals were not nice places. And now, they had forced him to go to one, because that little punk Gaara might have had brain trauma. And they had given him a stack of papers. To fill out on Gaara. And he didn't know shit about Gaara.

For some strange reason, they kept asking if he was the red-haired boy's father. He didn't look that old, did he? He sighed at the papers and picked up his pen.

"First name. . .Gaara. . ." He paused. "I wonder how he spells that?" He wrote the name down several times, until he decided upon a letter combination that looked about right. He wrote it down on the line. "Middle name. . .Fuck if I know. . ." He wrote that down. "Last name. . ."

Why couldn't Gaara wake up so he could ask him all this crap! It wasn't as if he'd even hit the other boy that hard! Fuming, he chewed on the end of the pen. "Stupid Gaara," he muttered.

Stupid nurse. He'd taken Gaara to the school nurse, who had freaked out and sent Gaara to the hospital. Unfortunately, they'd needed someone to accompany the unconscious student, and not being able to reach Gaara's parents, Orochimaru had been volun-told for the job. Which was why he was sitting in an uncomfortable chair at a smelly hospital at seven o'clock in the evening. The stupid nurse had even had the gall to blame him for knocking Gaara out and the principal had given him about six weeks' detention. "Gah. . .Next time, Itachi can take the poor bastard for medical treatment. . ."

- - - - - - -

Speaking of Itachi. . .

The older Uchiha was currently administering some "medical treatment" to the younger. And by that, it meant that he had put Sasuke in bed, with a couple of extra-fluffy pillows and was currently trying to wipe the gravel out of the wounds on Sasuke's forearms. The younger boy's head was also neatly swathed with bandages.

Naruto sat on the only available chair in the room, nervously flicking his eyes from Sasuke's face, expressionless in sleep, to Itachi's, which was also pretty expressionless. You could just tell they were related.

Sasuke stirred suddenly, making a funny whining noise and attempting to roll over. When he found he was fastened to one spot, he cracked open an eye. "Wha -"

"Just lie still," Itachi said, rather coldly.

Sasuke did as he was told and swept his gaze about the room. He finally settled on looking at Naruto, and it was a kind of funny look, considering Sasuke's eyes were only half open. He looked very tired and pale. His one eye was slightly swollen.

Sasuke winced when Itachi stuck the tweezers into the deep wound on his forearm, pulling at a small rock. Itachi pulled it free and Sasuke whimpered. "Don't be a baby," Itachi told him.  
At last, Itachi sat back and claimed he was through with picking the dirt out of Sasuke's wounds. He ruffled Sasuke's hair, or what he could of it, stood and stretched. "Get some sleep," he said and then, he left the room.

Sasuke looked back at Naruto. "C'mere," he said, still sounding half asleep.

Naruto obeyed him. He sat down in the spot Itachi had formerly occupied. "How are you?" he asked, keeping his voice down.

Sasuke gave him a half-hearted smile. "Kind of sick. . .and I ache all over."

Naruto nervously took Sasuke's hand, not sure how the other boy would react to being touched after what had happened. He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on Sasuke's forehead, waiting for Sasuke to freak out. He'd heard all sorts of stories about rape victims.

Sasuke coughed. Naruto raised an eyebrow. "Don't you. . .not want me to touch you? 'Cause like, that's supposed to be normal or something -"

He trailed off seeing that Sasuke was shaking his head, or attempting to, anyway. The black-haired boy gave him a weak smile. "I like you," he whispered.

Naruto blushed. That was quite a simple statement, but it held so much more potency than anything else Sasuke could have said. It meant that Sasuke trusted him and didn't feel threatened by him, even though most would have refused contact with anyone.

"Stay?" Sasuke asked, suddenly, and opened his eyes as wide as he could. He grabbed Naruto's wrist.

Naruto smiled down at him. "Are you scared?" It wasn't a mocking question - it was supposed to be tender.

Sasuke blushed, looked away, then looked back and nodded. His eyes implored Naruto to remain. Naruto couldn't refuse. This was Sasuke's hour of need and he couldn't dare refuse.

Gingerly, he clambered into the bed, careful not to jolt the other boy too badly. He snuggled up to the injured boy, eager to find Sasuke warm, which he would take as a sign of vitality and strength. The blond didn't know why, but he needed to be comforted, just as much as Sasuke did. He needed to know that Sasuke was still the strong one, the one that would look out for him, make sure he was safe. He didn't think he could be strong.

Sasuke was cold. Naruto was startled. Sasuke was like ice. If anybody had ever called other boy cold, it had never been more true. "You're freezing," Naruto murmured, his surprise echoing in his tone.  
"Shock," Sasuke murmured back, moving closer to Naruto. He was trying to leech heat.

"Shock. . .why?"

"Pain. . .blood loss. . .The whole idea of the event is beginning to sink in. . ."

Naruto looked concernedly at the other boy and frowned in thought. "You're brother's right. Get some sleep."

Sasuke smiled a bit. "I think I will while I still can. For some reason, I don't think I'll have too many restful nights."

Naruto sighed and rested his head against Sasuke's chest, wishing he could disagree with the other boy.

- - - - - - - -

The nurse raised an eyebrow as Orochimaru skipped over to the desk and slammed a bunch of papers down on her desk. "Finished!" he crowed triumphantly.

The nurse set down her file and picked up the first sheet. She scanned over it, moving her lips as she read each field. "First Name, Gaara; middle name, fuck if I know; last name, Thingamabobit ; sex, flaming homosexual! Birthday, six-nine, sixty-nine. Age, 1,000 000 000 000 000 000 000 or there about. Height eleven feet. Weight, I know this because. . .? Father, Jimbo , mother, Maybelle. First language, freak. Country of birth, Mars."

The nurse frowned and set the sheet down. "Sir. This isn't a game. I need these sheets to be filled out with accurate, realistic information." She glared down her nose pointedly.

Orochimaru shrugged. "That is accurate, realistic information. I know fuck-all about this kid!"

The nurse looked surprised. "Isn't he your son?"

Orochimaru nearly fell over. He swore, if somebody asked him that again, he'd kill them! "No! He's not my son! I'm eighteen! I'm too young to have children!"

Everyone in the waiting room was now staring at him. He turned to glare at them. Hastily, they found other, more interesting things to look at. Orochimaru turned back to the desk, still glaring. The nurse behind the desk looked very, very shocked.

Orochimaru was about to say something, when another nurse appeared from nowhere and said, rather cheerfully, "You can see your son now, Sir!"

This time, Orochimaru did fall over.  
- - - - - - - -

Iruka hung up the phone, feeling rather solemn. Kakashi gave the shorter man an odd look. "Well?" he asked.

Iruka frowned. "It's bad," he said. "Itachi wouldn't tell me anymore than that Sasuke got in a fight and Naruto and him were upstairs, sleeping."

Kakashi nodded. Iruka looked at the floor thoughtfully. "I think there's something more to the story. Sasuke isn't the kind to pick a fight, or even get involved in one."

"Do you think somebody was beating Naruto up?"

Iruka shook his head. "Itachi would have told me that."

They were both silent for a moment more. Kakashi sighed and said, "Well. I'm sure they're both quite all right, Iruka. Let's get going."

Iruka looked indecisive, then nodded.

They were headed out for dinner, on the offer Kakashi had extended a few days, or weeks, prior.

Kakashi had actually made reservations at a ritzy restaurant. For some reason, he felt the desire to impress Iruka, and treat him too. It was one of those things that you didn't know why you did it, but you did it anyway.

The more time he spent with Iruka, the more he wanted to spend time with Iruka. He found the other teacher incredibly charming and sweet, even when he wasn't trying to be. Somehow, Iruka just made him smile.

True, he felt a tad mushy and it made him sick, but he couldn't deny he felt some sort of attachment to the other man.

Dinner wasn't special, per se. Kakashi estimated that he spent more time meditating on what he felt about Iruka than actually talking to or looking at the other. It made him kind of mad that he wasn't able to figure himself out, and that he was wasting time with Iruka as a result.

Absently, he sighed.

Iruka looked at him, concernedly. "Is something wrong, Kakashi?"

The silver-headed teacher shook his head, closing his eyes. "No. Nothing's wrong, Iruka. Just thinking."

Iruka was apparently feeling rather inquisitive. He looked up at Kakashi with his dark eyes. "Thinking about what?"

"You," was the blunt reply.

Iruka blushed and glanced away. "Thinking about me? Why?"

Kakashi looked Iruka in the eye. Iruka stared back, spellbound by the gaze of the other man. "Because. . .I think. . .I think that maybe. . .Maybe I love you, Iruka."

Iruka went terribly red in the face. "Kakashi!" he sputtered. "Stop joking around! That's not -"

Fortunately, Kakashi spared himself a lecture by claiming Iruka's mouth. The brunet made a small, surprised squeak, then completely melted. Kakashi wouldn't have been surprised if Iruka had actually gone and fainted. He pulled back from the kiss, smirking.

He tapped Iruka's cheek with his index finger. "I was being quite serious," he said.

Iruka blushed harder and pressed a hand to his lips. "Kakashi," he whispered.

All in all, one had to admit the scene was like something out of a cheesy romance novel. It was disgustingly sweet and sappy. Fortunately, Kakashi had the sense to dispel this aura by clapping Iruka soundly on the back and exclaiming cheerfully, "Now, let's go have kinky sex in the back of my car!"

"Kakashi!"

- - - - - -

Naruto stirred against Sasuke in his sleep. Sasuke gingerly moved his arm and stroked Naruto's soft hair, trying to quiet the unruly sleeper. He himself had been awake for about an hour or so. Naruto wasn't exactly still when he slept. He didn't want to count how many times he'd been kicked in the last fifteen minutes.

Naruto sighed and snuggled up against Sasuke, a small smile spreading across his features. Sasuke smiled a bit too. Naruto was. . .cute when he was asleep. Sasuke swept the blond's messy bangs up off his forehead, then let them fall back. Naruto yawned and nuzzled Sasuke again.

Sasuke wondered briefly if, that by some odd act of nature he and Naruto had a baby, if it would be as cute as Naruto. He blinked, wondering if loss of blood had really affected him more than he previously thought. Babies and Naruto? He nearly laughed out loud. Somehow, he could picture Naruto in a dress, holding a newborn baby in his arms.

He shook his head. He didn't want to know where the thought had come from. He smiled and ruffled Naruto's hair some more. The blond boy stirred, yawned and finally, opened an eye. "G'morning," he said lazily, putting his head back down and closing his eyes.  
Sasuke petted the blond's hair some more. "Good morning. You have soft hair, you know?"

Naruto yawned in reply. "Do you think I'll be allowed to stay in bed all day?" he asked.

Sasuke shrugged. "I don't know. For some reason, I think Iruka will be by and force you to go to school."

"Nooooo," Naruto mock yelled. "Not school." The blond curled up, intent on going back to sleep.

Sasuke prodded him. "Hey. Get up. I want to go downstairs."

Naruto waved his hand. "Go downstairs yourself. I'm sleeping."

"You're not sleeping," Sasuke goaded. "And I don't think I can walk. Now I know what you felt like on Saturday."

Naruto stuck his tongue out. "Aha! So the great Uchiha Sasuke admits pain!"

" -except probably worse, because you weren't brutally raped by some psycho who wanted to make you his bitch," Sasuke added, scowling.

Naruto sat up. "I dunno. You're pretty psychotic. And you'd like it if I were your bitch."

Sasuke sighed. "Just help me downstairs? I'm hungry."

Naruto beamed. "That's good! That's very good!" he said excitedly. He nuzzled Sasuke's cheek for emphasis. Sasuke winced. "Oops. . .sorry," Naruto murmured, remembering that both of Sasuke's cheeks now sported angry bruises.

Naruto clambered out of bed and helped Sasuke up. The black-haired boy winced with nearly every motion.

As soon as Sasuke had finally gotten to his feet, Naruto seemed to think of something. "Lie back down," he said.

Sasuke threw him a glare. "Lie down?" he asked, sounding cynical.

Naruto nodded. "I want to. . .check you over," he said, sounding almost shy. "Itachi didn't do that," he added quickly, seeing Sasuke's look of incredulity.

"Oh," Sasuke said resignedly and collapsed into bed. In all truth, he was happy to lie back down, for his body was screaming at him for getting up.  
Naruto climbed back onto the bed and started to unbutton Sasuke's pyjama top. He fumbled and Sasuke nearly cried out when the clumsy blond drove his knuckles into his chest.

"Sorry!" Naruto yelped, hoping Sasuke wouldn't vent a murderous rage upon him.

Sasuke growled and undid the shirt himself, wincing as the motion sent jolts of pain down his arms. "There," he muttered, glaring at Naruto.

Timidly, Naruto pulled back the cloth. He winced as he looked at the marred skin, which was varying degrees of yellow, blue and black, with some purple hues mixed in.

"Oh, gosh, Sasuke, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have used you as a pillow," he whispered apologetically, wishing he could nuzzle the other boy, but he couldn't find a spot to do so that wouldn't cause the other pain.

Sasuke's expression softened a bit. "That's okay," he murmured. "It didn't hurt that much."

Naruto knew he was lying. He said nothing though, and re-buttoned Sasuke's shirt. "Are you still hungry? Good. We'll go get some breakfast now. Here, don't rush yourself! You'll hurt yourself. Careful!"

Sasuke shot Naruto a glare. "Mother hen," he growled.

Naruto blushed. "I just don't like seeing you in pain," he murmured.

Sasuke kissed the top of Naruto's golden head. "That's okay. I wouldn't like to see you in pain any more, I suppose."

- - - - - - - -

In another place, another young boy woke up to two unfamiliar faces. The aura was more hostile in this scenario.

Gaara stared up from his bed, waiting for his mind to register who was glaring down at him. He didn't know who they were.

"Why did you do that to Sasuke?" the first one asked. He had longer hair and an almost effeminate look to him.

Gaara tried to remember. Who was Sasuke? What had he done? Why was everything so fuzzy? He ignored the two strange face looming over him and rolled over. He went back to sleep. Everything would be clearer later.

- - - - - - -  
Itachi glanced at Orochimaru. "They thought he was your son?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes!" Orochimaru cried, throwing his hands up in the air. "I don't know where the heck they got the idea from!"

"You're awful young to be having children," Itachi said snidely.

"You're awful young to be a mother," Orochimaru returned.

Itachi looked shock, then angry. "Wha- Mother! What makes you think I would be the mother!" he yelped.

Orochimaru laughed. "Relax, you moron. I was merely saying that if I was a father, you would be the mother."

Itachi rolled his eyes. "So, what you're saying is that you're very devoted?"

Orochimaru nodded vigorously. "Yes! I'm very devoted! And since I am, we should go into that empty room across the hall and . . .do some stuff," he finished with an evil smirk.

Itachi frowned. "You pervert. . ."

Orochimaru pouted. "What! It's one of my whatcha-ma-call-ems. . ."

"Fantasies," Itachi supplied, still frowning. "You are one very screwed up little boy Orochimaru."

Orochimaru smiled. "I know. That's why you love me." He fluttered his eyelashes for effect.

"Ugh!" Itachi cried, backing away. "Don't ever do that again!"

Orochimaru frowned. "Fine."

They fell silent and glanced back at Gaara, who was still sound asleep on his side.

- - - - - - -

Morning light flooded into the room. Iruka stirred, turning away from the invading light that threatened to wake him from slumber.

His nose bumped into something unyielding. 'That's funny,' he thought. 'I didn't think my bed was that close to the wall. . .'

As it turned out, his bed wasn't that close to the wall. In actuality, what he'd rolled into was nothing else than one Hatake Kakashi.  
Hastily, Iruka turned over, feeling a heavy blush spread across his features. He was dreaming. He simply had to be dreaming and in a few minutes, his alarm clock would go off and he would wake up. . .

Kakashi yawned, and muttered, "Morning, 'ruka."

He wasn't dreaming. Oh shit.

- - - - - -


	9. Bad News

(Author's Note: If you're reading, please remember to review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 9: Bad News

Gaara sat up, feeling slightly sick. The putrid scent of the hospital was heavy in the air and it clung to his nostrils.

He was alone now. For this, he was glad. He needed the time to think, to plan. Sasuke seemingly had a much stronger hold on Naruto than he would have liked to believe.

He had to admit, it was pretty low to do what he'd done. But Naruto. . .the blind blond had defended Sasuke! Naruto had yet to notice the possessiveness Sasuke regarded him with. Gaara had noticed that whenever someone conversed with Naruto, whoever it was, even Iruka, that Sasuke glared at them jealously. It was as if he was scared of losing Naruto.

Now, that just wasn't fair. Naruto seemed like a completely social person, had the rest of society allowed him to join in. He was rambunctious, funny, talkative; the kid never shut up, never stopped moving.

He didn't have many friends to begin with. There were a few people who could tolerate Naruto: Hinata, Iruka, Sasuke. He knew himself to be included amongst those ranks. Sasuke seemed to think he had first claim to Naruto, some sort of special right in which he could cut Naruto off from everyone else. That might have fit Sasuke's possessive, jealous, anti-social nature, but it certainly wouldn't do anything for Naruto.

Sasuke needed to realize he wasn't special. He needed to realize that he wasn't going to be allowed to cut Naruto off from the world the boy needed so much. And Naruto was too blind to liberate himself, to see what Sasuke was doing. Sasuke may have not even been conscious of what he was doing.

Well, now it was time to play the 'consoling friend'. Sasuke was probably in much worse condition than himself, especially emotionally, if not physically. That would probably merit a two-week "vacation" from school or so Gaara reasoned. That was good. That was all the time he needed to weave himself into Naruto's life.

At first, he'd play the apologetic. He'd feign true sorrow and regret for what he'd done. Naruto was blind enough to fall for it. Once he had Naruto believing he was sorry, he'd do a few nice things for Naruto (what, he didn't know. He'd find out when the time came) and let him know he just wanted to be his friend. As soon as he had Naruto ensnared, once he had the blond boy's trust, he could easily open the blue eyes he admired so much to Sasuke's envy.

He didn't want to destroy the relationship Naruto and Sasuke had. It obviously made Naruto happy and if there was one thing Gaara found he liked, it was seeing Naruto happy. The smile that engulfed his entire face was priceless and it made Gaara want to smile too.

Naruto needed someone to look out for him. He had Sasuke, and Gaara wouldn't deny that Sasuke was, at the very least, dedicated to Naruto. And although Sasuke had nothing but Naruto's best interests in mind, he was a danger to the blond. There was nobody to safeguard that, until now.

No, Gaara wasn't there to ruin Sasuke and Naruto's relationship. He was there to perfect it. And he was determined to succeed.

There was the sharp clack of shoes on the tiled floor and Gaara glanced to his left. A nurse, a woman of about forty-five, had walked into the room, carrying a bundle of stuff with her. She smiled, almost sadly, at him. "Good afternoon, Gaara," she said politely, walking past the bed and started putting file folders where they belonged.

When at last her arms were devoid of paperwork, she turned to him. "The doctor will be in to see you in just a moment."

And with that, she was gone. True to the nurse's word, the doctor entered the room. He nodded to Gaara, then picked up the paper work the nurse had placed at the end of the bed. He glanced it over, making some noises such as 'hmm' and 'hnn'. Gaara wanted to hit him.

Finally, the irritating man of medicine looked at Gaara. "Well, Gaara, it seems we have some bad news for you."

Gaara merely continued to glower at him. The doctor paused, as if for dramatic effect. "It would appear you've got Hepatitis B."

Gaara choked. He had what!

"Now. . .it's not a life-threatening situation. Most cases are fairly mild."

And with that, the doctor launched into the procedures he should follow, what the symptoms were, and so on and so forth.

Gaara barely heard a word he said. Had he contracted this disease before the incident? Most likely. And if he had, had he passed it to his victim? Again, the answer was most likely. And what happened if Sasuke and Naruto -

He felt cold.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Sasuke poked at 'breakfast'. He wasn't sure what it was, but it certainly didn't look edible. He seriously doubted Naruto had any culinary skills. Secondly, he had quickly lost his appetite. He felt very, very tired and very queasy.

Naruto jabbed him angrily in the shoulder. "Well! Aren't you going to eat it? After all that work, you're just gonna let it get cold! Hmph! I thought you said you were hungry!"

Sasuke shoved the plate across the table and rested his head on his arms. "Don't feel good," he mumbled.

Naruto blinked. "What? You don't feel good?"

Sasuke shook his head and yawned. Naruto sat down beside him and looked at him concernedly. "It's. . .is it something to do with what happened? 'Cause, ya know, it's not your fault and -"

Again, Sasuke shook his head. "I just feel. . .sick. And tired," he murmured. He stood up, rather slowly and unsteadily. "I want to go to bed," he announced.

Naruto rose, regarding the other boy gravely. Sasuke was a shade paler than normal. He looked like he hadn't slept at all, dark circles having formed about his eyes, accentuating the sooty colour of them. "You don't look so good," Naruto said softly.

Sasuke gave him a soft smile. "I don't feel so good either."

Naruto took his arm, mindful of the wounds, leading the other boy, allowing him to rest some of his weight on the shorter's shoulders. "You're awful warm," Naruto stated after a moment or two of silence.

"I'm cold," Sasuke said, shivering as if to prove his point.

Naruto led him back upstairs, and somehow, they managed to get Sasuke back into bed without killing him first. The ebony-haired boy yawned and snuggled under the blankets, shuddering. He instinctively pushed up against Naruto's warm hand when it was laid across his forehead.

"You've got a fever," Naruto said. "I think you've got the flu."

Sasuke merely turned over, wrapping the blankets about himself tightly. Naruto sat down on the floor at the edge of the bed. "Get some rest," he told Sasuke quietly.

Mentally, he was wondering if somehow, the mysterious illness wasn't related to the incident. Had Sasuke been fretting over it while he slept? He doubted Sasuke would have woken him up, even if he was having a nightmare. Naruto knew he was a heavy sleeper. Iruka often told him he could sleep through a tornado.

Maybe Sasuke's being sick was a compounding of nightmares, worry, shock and injury. Maybe it really just was the flu. Naruto really hoped it was, because at least with the flu, Sasuke would be over it in a couple of days. If it was the former. . .Sasuke could take months, even years, to get over it. He may not ever get over it.

"Naruto?"

The blond started. He'd been so deep in thought. . . He glanced up at Sasuke. "Yeah?"

"Could. . .you. . .uh. . ."

Sasuke's voice was so soft, Naruto could barely hear him. Colour had been struck back into his cheeks, even if for a mere moment, by embarrassment.

Naruto stood up. "What is it, Sasuke?"

Sasuke twisted the edge of the sheet between his forefinger and thumb. "Could you. . .um. . .read. . .a story?" He looked at the blond, flushed with embarrassment. His eyes were watering, from not only sickness, but humiliation.

Naruto was struck stupid. "What? Why?" he managed to ask, after about a minute or so of dumb silence.

Sasuke looked away. "Mom. . .always. . .used to. . .when I was little. . .when I was sick." He sighed. "I haven't been sick since. . ."

Naruto stood in silence, trying to process what Sasuke was saying. And then it clicked. If Sasuke hadn't been sick since his mother passed on, he had never had reason to miss the comfort of her when he was sick. If she had read him stories while he was ill, then that action was firmly connected with comfort and safety in his mind.

"Sure," Naruto said off-handedly, feeling his own throat close up a bit. He'd been too old for silly things like that when Iruka adopted him, and he'd never had a mother to administer it. He realized, with a bit of a shock, he had no ideas connected with comfort and safety.

". . .what do you want to hear?" he heard himself asking vaguely.

Sasuke shrugged. "It doesn't matter. . .anything's good. There's books on the shelf."

He pointed weakly and Naruto looked at the shelf. It was filled with hefty texts, and novels of all types. Sci-fi, horror, mystery. . .Naruto thought he spotted a few romance novels amongst the army of books.

He looked back at his boyfriend. "You want one of these things read?" He sounded incredulous. He wasn't going to read an entire novel out loud!

Sasuke shook his head. "No, you moron. Down there. . .at the bottom."  
Naruto looked on the bottom shelf and found an army of books, obviously for beginning readers, which Sasuke had long discarded. There were fairy tales and lots of other easy-reads. Naruto couldn't decide on one, so he closed his eyes and pulled one off the shelf. He opened his eyes and read the title.

How utterly fitting. The story he'd picked was "Guess How Much I Love You". He could feel his cheeks heating up already.

Sasuke frowned. "Hurry up. Just pick one."

Naruto turned back to him. "Okay. I've got one." He trudged back over to the bed and sat down. Almost instantly, Sasuke had cuddled up against him. Naruto blushed harder. It was amazing how being sick affected people.

"Which one did you pick?" Sasuke asked with a yawn. He leaned against Naruto. The blond, he decided, made a very good pillow.

Naruto blushed and his voice shook a little bit, but he read the title anyways. "Guess how much I love you."

Sasuke gave Naruto a funny look. "Um? A lot? Can you read the story now?"

Naruto coloured some more. "No, you dork! That's the title of the story!"

"Oh," Sasuke said and blushed a little.

Naruto opened the cover of the book and cleared his throat. He started to read. "Little Nutbrown Hare, who was going to bed, held on tight to Big Nutbrown Hare's very long ears. He wanted to be sure that Big Nutbrown Hare was listening. 'Guess how much I love you.'"

"Oh, I don't think I could guess that," Sasuke yawned.

Naruto blushed and tried to continue. "This much -"

Sasuke spread his arms out, then wrapped them gingerly about Naruto's waist. "But I love you this much," he murmured sleepily.

"I love you as high as I can reach -"

"I love you as high as I can reach."

"I love you all the way to my toe -"

"And I love you all that way up to your toes."  
"I love you as high as I can hop -"

"But I love you as high as I can hop."

"I love you all the way down the lane as far as the river -"

"I love you across the river and over the hills."

Naruto blushed, realizing they were keeping up the dialogue in the book. He growled lightly and tried to continue reading. "I love you right up to the moon."

Sasuke smiled. "I love you right up to the moon and back," he mumbled. "And I mean that."

Naruto blushed and dropped the book. "Bah! I thought you wanted a story read!"

Sasuke smiled and nuzzled Naruto. "I think this is better than any story. Besides, it's not my fault you picked the sentimental one."

Naruto was silent for a moment, then he said, softly, "Did you really mean what you said?"

He looked at Sasuke, who glared back, looking insulted. "Of course I meant it," he whispered. He pulled himself up a bit and kissed Naruto's cheek. "G'night," he murmured.

He lay back down. Naruto put a hand on Sasuke's head, hesitantly, petting the other boy, stroking his soft hair. "Sleep tight," he murmured. Sasuke didn't say anything. He'd gone to sleep.

Naruto sat there for a long time, thinking. Why did it mean so much to him when Sasuke had said that? Why did he care if Sasuke really meant that he loved him. Iruka said he loved him all the time, and he told Iruka the same. But it didn't hold the same importance.

He lay down, still thinking. He listened to Sasuke's slow, even breathing. He wanted to cry. He didn't know why, but he wanted to cry. He pressed his face against Sasuke's back. He didn't care if he got sick. He really didn't. Sasuke had said he loved him. He started to cry. He bit his lip to keep his sobs in check. He didn't want to wake Sasuke.

That was too bad however. Sasuke woke up. "Huh. . .Naruto? What's wrong?"

Naruto shook his head, and mumbled, "Nothing."

Sasuke turned over and folded the blond into his chest. "Shush. . .why are you crying?"

Naruto grabbed hold of Sasuke's shirt. "Because you love me," he whimpered.  
- - - - - - - - - - -

Iruka stared at Kakashi. Kakashi stared right back. Iruka blushed. "Um. . ."

Kakashi said nothing. Iruka tried to find something intelligent to say. "So. . ."

Kakashi smiled. "How are you this morning?"

Iruka shifted uncomfortably and paused. He suddenly felt very, very stupid. He was still fully dressed, as was Kakashi. He resisted the urge to bash his head against his pillow. "Very, very stupid," he replied, answering Kakashi's question a little belatedly.

Kakashi frowned. "How so?"

Iruka waved his hand carelessly, dismissing the subject. Kakashi poked him. "Would you be adverse to getting up and making breakfast?" the silver-haired one asked, a hint of hopeful glee evident in his voice. Iruka looked up at the other teacher. Kakashi looked hopefully at him. He looked kinda like a kid at Christmas.

"Fine," Iruka sighed, getting up off the bed.

Kakashi made an exclamation of happiness, then tackled-hugged Iruka. Iruka, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, wasn't expecting that, and consequently, both of them tumbled out of the bed, onto the floor.

Iruka proceeded to untangle himself from the other man, giving Kakashi a half-hearted glare. Kakashi merely closed his eyes and smiled. "Have I mentioned how much I love your cooking?"

- - - - - - - - - - -

Orochimaru grumbled. He wasn't a very happy Orochimaru. Oh, no, he was in fact, quite angry. First of all, he'd just been recruited to go check on Gaara and try to figure out why the freakish child had massacred Sasuke, courtesy of Itachi.

Of course, he could have refused. Yes, he could have refused. That was, if he had some sort of death wish. When Itachi told you to do something, you did that something, no matter what it was. The only circumstance under which you would refuse to do that something, was if you wanted to die a very slow, agonizing, torturous, painful, utterly excruciating death. In Orochimaru's case, it would probably be death by abstinence.

As such was the case, he was currently very displeased. He stomped up the stairs of the hospital as, he couldn't stand elevators, and wandered down the hall, trying to remember which one was Gaara's room.

At last, by pure chance, he stumbled across the room. Gaara was sitting up, staring off into space. He wasn't thinking too intently, or so Orochimaru assumed, because he looked rather blank.

"Hello," Orochimaru called, in an effort to get the red-haired one's attention.

Gaara snapped back to reality, and turned his glaring green eyes on the disturber of his peace. "What do you want?" he growled, recognizing the face from earlier.

Orochimaru gave a little wave and smiled nervously. "Uh. . .I got sent up here to see how you were and such. . ."

Damn it, those eyes were creepy. And he had thought Itachi was scary when he glared.

Gaara continued glowering. "I'm fine, thank you," he snarled.

He'd been hoping that Orochimaru would go away, but it was a vain hope. Instead, the black-haired nuisance bounded into the room and pulled up a chair. "Oh, good then! Perhaps you can answer a few questions for me then!" he said cheerfully, a grin spreading across his face.

Gaara wanted to hurt him. Badly. Break him into bits. Absently, he felt the small lump on the back of his head that served as a reminder that this one was not to be messed with. He grunted in reply.

"Good. Now, first off, why the fuck did you do that to Sasuke?"

Orochimaru's eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Gaara, waiting for his reaction, for his answer. He really didn't like this guy.

Gaara refused to look at him now. "I did it. . ."

He trailed off and Orochimaru waited, somewhat impatiently, for the rest of the answer. Gaara turned back to him, smirking. "I did it to help Naruto."

Orochimaru blinked, dumbfounded by the boy's apparent ignorance of the consequences of his actions. "What! Are you insane! You think that by hurting Sasuke, you're helping Naruto! You freakin' nutjob!"

Contempt for the boy welled up, made him want to yell at him some more, call him some nasty things, but he was too angry for that. The words wouldn't come. He fell silent, but only for a moment or two, before he sneered, "Tell me. How in your sick, twisted little brain do you figure that hurting Sasuke is good for Naruto?"

Gaara smirked. "I don't have to tell you anything."

Orochimaru sat back in his seat, frowning. "I see," he said slowly. "I guess you'll be explaining yourself to some other people, then."

Gaara gave him an inquisitive look. Orochimaru vacated his chair and walked to the door.

"I. . ."

Orochimaru turned back, hearing the start of what he thought was a confession. Gaara looked back up at him, his eyes ablaze. "I've got Hep B," he said suddenly.

It took the older boy a moment or two to register what he meant. "Oh. . ."

Gaara gave him a pointed look. "Keep him away from Naruto," he growled.

Orochimaru didn't reply. He turned and left the room, nearly falling in his haste. His mind was whirring. Why did. . ?

He dashed back down the stairs.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Itachi trod up the stairs. He paused outside the door to Sasuke's room, then knocked lightly. The noise went unheard and he allowed himself entry, pushing open the door.

After a brief debate, it had been decided that Itachi would be the one to break the news to Sasuke. Orochimaru had never quite understood the phrase "delicate situation" and was liable to very blunt about it. And so, there Itachi was.

Sasuke and Naruto were curled up together, sound asleep. Itachi felt a pang of guilt for having to disturb them. He called to his brother.

Sasuke, however, remained oblivious to the world. Naruto, on the other hand, stirred and glanced over at him with bleary blue eyes. "Itachi?" he asked sleepily, raising himself from his spot on the bed.

Itachi frowned, not sure what to do next. On one hand, he didn't want to wake Sasuke up, but on the other hand, he didn't want to tell Naruto in place of Sasuke. "Yeah," he said at last. "Can you wake Sasuke up?"

Naruto yawned. "I dunno. . .he's not feeling good. . ."

Itachi felt kind of sick when Naruto said that. Any slight, silly hope he'd had that somehow or other the virus hadn't been passed to Sasuke had just been thrown out the proverbial window. "Oh," he said softly.

"Just tell me what you wanted to tell him and I'll let him know when he wakes up," Naruto offered, rubbing his eyes.

Itachi was silent for a moment, then decided to go ahead and tell the blond. Naruto, in truth, had just as much right to know as Sasuke did. "Gaara's got Hepatitis B."

Naruto just looked at him stupidly. "He's got what? And why do I care? I hope whatever he has is really terrible and kills him. He deserves to die."

Naruto's eyes snapped with anger and determination and he made his last statement with such conviction that it was almost scary. Itachi shook his head in dismay. "Naruto. . .Hepatitis B is something that's passed from person to person by things like kissing and. . ." He paused for a second. "And sex."

It took Naruto a moment to understand what he meant. "You mean that. .?" The blond glanced worriedly at Sasuke, who was still nestled against him, content in sleep. He looked back at Itachi.

Itachi nodded. "Yeah. He's got it."

Naruto looked sad, then angry. "Is it deadly?" he asked, his voice unsteady. He kept his eyes down.

"It can be. . ."

Itachi trailed off, not wanting to scare Naruto. "Most of the time it's not."

"He'll get better?"

Itachi looked indecisive as to how he should answer. "He should get better, but there's no guarantees."

They were silent for several minutes. Naruto looked at the older Uchiha, worry clearly scrawled across his face. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked quietly.

Itachi really wished he had of told Sasuke. Sasuke wouldn't have asked all these questions. "Don't kiss him or anything like that, okay? We don't want you to get it too."

Naruto nodded and looked back at Sasuke, who was still lost in slumber.

- - - - - - - -

Sakura kept glancing at the empty desk in the third row. Tsunade-sensei kept droning on and on, but the pink-haired teen paid no attention.

Dammit! Where was Sasuke! She really, really needed to talk to him. Oh, her last "date" with him might have been a complete disaster, but she held it as being Naruto's fault. Of course, there was the whole 'Sasuke's gay' controversy going on, but Sakura was ready to prove all the nay-sayers wrong. Sasuke liked girls!

The annual fall fair was being held two weeks from Saturday. It wasn't anything special, really, just a few rides and a midway, but everyone made a big deal out of it. The fair grounds were always crowded with mothers and fathers, small children and grandparents. Groups of teenagers hung out there, because there was nothing better to do. And of course, there was always a multitude of happy couples.

This was her chance! Naruto wouldn't be there. Naruto never went to the fair. Ever. It was like an unwritten law. Of course, he never went to dances either, but he had asked Hinata to go with him then. She knew for a fact that Hinata was going to the fair with Kiba. She'd overheard them talking. Of course, it made logical sense for Naruto to go with Sasuke, if they were indeed. . .that way, but if Sasuke was going with Sakura, then Naruto would have no one at all to go with and therefore, wouldn't go.

But dammit, she needed to ask Sasuke now! Before Naruto got his claws hooked into Sasuke, before the blond convinced Sasuke to go to the fair with him. And before other people asked her to go.

She glanced over at Lee, who was sitting near the back corner, intensely focussed on his work. She hastily looked back to the front and nearly shuddered. She'd never go with Lee! She knew he was bound to ask her, as he had done every year since they started high school. She really didn't like lying to him, especially since it meant that if she went to the fair and he was there, she'd be found out.

She hoped Sasuke wasn't sick. She decided that she'd stop by the flower shop after school and take him some flowers, just in case he wasn't feeling well. Poor Sasuke! Sick and all alone! That was the only logical explanation for Sasuke not being in school.

Of course, there was another, more sinister reason. She didn't want to think about it, but every so often, it flitted across her mind, making her shudder. What if Sasuke had been kidnapped, well, not really kidnapped, but something like it, by Naruto and Naruto was now horribly defiling her beloved!

Ino jabbed her with a pencil. She gave her friend a funny look. Sakura raised an eyebrow in confusion. Ino sighed and gave her a signal that meant she'd talk to her later. Ino was failing English and couldn't afford to get on Tsunade's bad side.

Sakura sighed and looked back toward the front of the room. This promised to be a long day.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Hinata sat at her desk, musing. She hadn't told anybody yet, but she was going to the fair with Kiba.

The entire thing was still a mystery to herself. Why had Kiba asked her, of all people? She hadn't thought he liked her very much. More importantly, she wondered why she had accepted. She thought that maybe it was because she understood how much courage it took for someone to risk being rejected flatly.

Besides, Kiba wasn't such a bad guy. He was a little loud-mouthed, and he could be rude, but then again, so was Naruto and she didn't mind him.

She could imagine what her parents would have to say though. 'You're going with that Inuzuka kid!'

It didn't really matter what they thought of her, however. They'd always liked her sister better anyway. They might object to Kiba at first, but eventually, any qualms they had would fade into the background, just like always.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Shikamaru glanced at Ino, who seemed pensive. The vaulting sky above was a perfect blue and it seemed to match her eyes as she stared skywards.

"You'd better watch where you're going."

She brought her gaze down to look at him. "Hmph," she said.

"Fine," Shikamaru said. "Don't complain to me when you trip and fall over a rock."

"I won't trip and fall, pineapple-head!" Ino shrieked, bringing her hand down over his head.

Shikamaru winced, but said nothing. They walked on together in silence. Shikamaru glanced at Ino. "So. . .what's up?"

Ino sighed. "Oh, Sakura. . .She's being stupid again."

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"She's going to ask Sasuke to the fair."

Shikamaru nearly fell over. "That moron. She doesn't know he's with Naruto?"

Ino shook her head. "She knows, but she doesn't believe it. She's insane. I tried to convince her not to ask him, but you know Sakura."

"Bull-headed and stubborn," Shikamaru supplied. "Much like someone else I know. . ."  
Ino threw him a glare that meant it was time to shut up. They were silent for a moment or more. Then Shikamaru turned back to Ino. "So. . .you going to the fair with anybody?"

Ino shook her head. "No. I was going to go with Sakura, but now she's got her almighty plan, so. . ."

"Why don't you go with me?"

Ino stopped and stared at Shikamaru. The black-haired boy struggled to keep down a blush. After a moment, she said, nervously, "I'll think about it."

They parted ways shortly thereafter.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Hey, Sakura -"

Sakura froze. She knew that voice, she knew who was talking to her and she didn't want to turn around.

She found herself face to face with a smiling Lee. Goddamn him, why did he have to be so persistent!

"Would you like to go to the fair with me?"

Sakura spluttered for a moment, trying to grasp an excuse. "Lee, really, I'd like to go -"

"Great!" Lee clapped her on the back, smiling even wider. "So, we'll go Saturday, around eight?"

"Lee -"

"That'd be good for me, is that good for you?"

"Ye -"

"Great! That's great!" Lee exclaimed, then gave her a brief hug and hop-skipped away.

Sakura blinked. "But. . . I'm going with someone else," she said pathetically to the air. She sighed and hung her head. What else could possibly go wrong?

Everything that could go wrong, would go wrong, eventually.

- - - - - - - -


	10. Down in the Dumps

(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Remember, if you're reading, please review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 10 : Down in the Dumps

Black consumed his vision. Blood spattered across the hard asphalt. He was breaking in half, breaking, breaking -

He snapped. He heard the bones go and he found he couldn't even scream. He could feel his vertebrae snapping back, ripping through the skin.

The nausea bubbled up, threatening to make acid trickle down his throat. What really killed him, however, was the waiting, the anxiety - when, when would it stop?

He was crying, but his tears were blood and he couldn't breathe - his breath stuck in his throat, until he thought his lungs were going to explode. He felt dizzy. Pain was the sole thing keeping him from dying - it kept reminding him he was still alive. He wished it would end.

He could hear voices in the background, fuzzily at first, then he could hear it more clearly and he picked up Naruto's voice, screaming over and over, begging his tormentor to stop.

Bang, bang, bang. There was gravel in his wounds and his forehead smacked the ground - blood obscured his vision. Cold, clammy fingers, all over him, touching him -

No, no, get off! He tried to push them away, but they remained, demanding, persisting.

Sasuke woke up, startled, panicked, feeling worse than he had when he'd gone to sleep. He felt sick - the nausea from his dream had become reality and in becoming so, increased tenfold. His breath didn't catch in his throat, but was laboured and his head throbbed painfully. There was no blood, but he couldn't see straight. There was no screaming, but he couldn't hear a thing.

Somebody brushed up against him and he froze, a sense of defenselessness welling up inside him. 'Stop touching me, I don't want to be touched, stop touching me, go away, go away. . .'

Whoever it was, they were breathing down his neck now, raising gooseflesh on his skin and he wanted to die. He screwed his eyes shut, then glanced over to his left.

Naruto was curled happily at his side, but it didn't do anything to relieve him. The blond had his fingers curled about his upper arm, and they were cold and clammy, and their grip was possessive, reminding him too much -

He knew it now. It was terrible, and it was sickening and it was disgusting -  
He'd been raped. He couldn't lie to himself any longer. He was shaking slightly, whimpering and he was disgusted by his own weakness, yet powerless to act and stop this.

He was so ashamed! He was so weak! How could he have let something like that happen? He'd let himself be defiled, thrown to the ground and fucked. It made him sick. He should have stopped it - he could have stopped it -

He wanted to cry. He scooted away from Naruto, uncomfortable with the close proximity. He shouldn't have wanted to Naruto to go away. He knew the other boy was only trying to help him.

But he just didn't feel safe! He eyed Naruto warily, as if he could transform into that damned monster at any point in time. He hated Gaara vehemently at that moment, for spoiling his bond with Naruto.

He felt cold. He didn't think he could be close to anyone ever again. This was why he'd distanced himself in the first place. You made bonds to break them and in the end, you got hurt.

He rose from the bed, watching the world spin about him, confusing him. He was disoriented, but something demanded that he get up, that he get away from -

He stumbled across the floor, as if in a trance. He felt clumsy, he felt stupid. He wanted to be sick. He somehow managed to stumble across the hall, into the bathroom. He didn't quite remember how he got there. Everything was like a vague dream. Hazy.

The urge to retch was greater now. He leaned against the closed door, which he didn't remember closing, breathing hard, shaking. His skin was slick with sweat and he closed his eyes involuntarily. The images that his memory dredged up were more than enough to make him open his eyes again.

Oh, gods. He smelt Gaara on him. He reeked of Gaara and the knowledge, coupled with his present nausea, forced him to retch violently. He stumbled to his feet again, watching the room spin around.

He was going to faint, he felt so weak -

He felt so dirty, as if he hadn't washed in weeks. He was filthy, and he knew it and goddamn it, he was going to be clean -

The shower wasn't helping. It made his wounds sting and bite and he winced, but it wasn't making him clean. He could still feel the defiling touch, still felt the blood that had dried on the backs of his thighs, mingled there with another, unmentionable fluid. He could scrub at his skin until he bled, but it wouldn't do any good, he'd never be clean, never, never -

He stumbled back from the shower, his wet hair still clinging to his neck like icy fingers, making him shiver.

Upon his re-entry of the room, he found Naruto sitting up, looking at him with confused blue eyes. The blond looked relieved upon seeing him and gave him a small smile. "Feeling better?" he asked, almost gently.

Better! How could he feel better! He felt worse, so much worse and he wasn't ever going to be better and Naruto knew that. Why was he smiling! Did he think this was funny? It wasn't funny, it was never going to be funny, except in a cruel, ironic way.

"No," he growled, his voice weak and grating, yet still holding all the coldness and anger he could muster.

Naruto's face fell. "No? Oh. . .lie back down then and get some more sleep. You look tired."

It was true. Sasuke was tired. It wasn't physical though, it was a mental weariness that made him want to fall down and sleep for the rest of forever. He wanted to break down, he wanted cry, he wanted to hurt Naruto, he. . .he. . .

He was so confused. Being confused made him angry.

Poor Naruto was the only one there that he could vent on. Even if it wasn't really Naruto's fault, even if he wasn't really angry at the blond -

"Get out," he growled.

Naruto blinked stupidly. "Wha?"

Sasuke's eyes narrowed. "I said get out, you idiot."

Naruto looked very, very confused, but slowly got up from the bed. "Sasuke, what's wrong?" he asked, concern overriding his confusion.

Sasuke gritted his teeth and glared. "Nothing's wrong."

"Sasuke, please! You can tell me!"

Like hell he could! Naruto was prying, trying to get him to admit defeat, admit his weakness. He wasn't going to! Naruto could pry all he liked, but Sasuke would never, ever admit defeat.

He pointed at the door and gave Naruto a pointed look. "Get out."

Naruto's expression was pleading. "Sasuke!"

"I said get out! Get out of my room, get out of my house, get out of my life! Out! I never want to see you again!"

It was rare to see Sasuke become anything more vehement that annoyed. But now. . .now he was viciously angry, filled with something that Naruto could only compare to murderous rage. Scared out of his wits, the blond did the only sensible thing he could do.

He got out. He ran blindly, out of the room, down the stairs and out the door. He ran all the way back to his house, fuelled by confusion, by fear. But most of all, he hurt. Not in a physical kind of way, but the kind of emotional ache one gets when one's feeling, very vehemently, a certain way.

He felt betrayed.

Iruka was startled when Naruto rushed by him, into the house, making the teacher nearly drop the armload of papers and books he was carrying. "Naruto -"

The only answer was the faint sound of a door slamming somewhere upstairs. Iruka sighed and let himself into the house. "Now what's wrong," he muttered, slipping off his shoes, glancing in the direction of the upstairs.

Naruto, meanwhile, was sitting on his bed, trying to stop crying and figure out what the hell was going on. He should have known. His social life was a complete disaster, so his love life was bound to follow suite.

He should have known this would come back and hit him in the face! Sasuke, Sasuke he hated, Sasuke he still wanted to hate and now he couldn't and -

Augh! He wasn't thinking clearly!

Sasuke was being such an asshole! Sure, he was traumatized and angry and confused and upset, but he had no right to take it out on Naruto! After all, he was just trying to help! But nooo. . .Sasuke was too high and mighty for help and when he got stomped, he had to stomp somebody else to make himself feel better.

Bah! Why did he believe anything Sasuke had ever said? It was just a bunch of bullshit, and he'd known it all along, but he'd really, really -

Wanted to believe that there was someone out there who could at least like him. Sasuke could at least stand on the same ground as him, when nobody else could. Or at least, Naruto had thought he could. In all truth, Sasuke and Naruto were never on common ground, no not ever. Sasuke had to be on top, had to be superior and for chrissakes! Naruto wished he'd just get off whatever fucking pedestal he'd placed himself on and see eye to eye with him!

He'd said he loved him, then told him that he'd never wanted to see him again. Two-faced bastard.  
Well, it wasn't hard to do just that. Naruto couldn't care less what Sasuke did now. Fuck, he could jump out a window and Naruto would not bat an eye. They were through.

Sniffing loudly, he wiped his eyes on his forearm and slid off the bed.

It was about time he gave up on Sasuke. It was about time he opened his eyes.

- - - - - - - - - -

It was a week and a half, almost two before Sasuke set foot in the halls of the school. Really, it should have been much longer, but somehow, his body had warded off the virus much sooner than was normal. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it definitely wasn't normal. The doctor was worried about a relapse.

However, Thursday morning, Sasuke set foot in his home room, much to the cheering approval of his fan girls. He was a little thinner, a little paler, a little sleepless and much moodier. He ignored the girls and took his seat.

Naruto glared at him from the back of the classroom. He noted, with grim satisfaction, that Sasuke's injured arm was still bound up tight and in a sling.

When the lesson began, Tsunade didn't bother bringing the class's attention to the fact the stoic boy had returned. Instead, she launched into her lesson, rambling on and on about rhetorical devices and other such nonsense nobody seemed to really care about.

The lesson dragged on and on and on. It seemed as though it would never end. The classroom was still hot and stuffy, despite the fact it was late September, almost October.

At long last, the bell gave the students their reprieve and they gathered their things, heading out into the hallways. Naruto lingered a little, feeling none too inspired to rush out and stand for fifteen minutes in the halls, by himself, before his next class began. He certainly wasn't going to dash right to his next class either.

Glancing up from his books, he caught sight of Sakura and Sasuke. They were conversing. Sakura was blushing terribly, and she kept looking at Sasuke, her eyes full of 'love'. Naruto could have gagged at her expression, but instead, he was overwrought with a pang of jealousy. He wasn't quiet sure why. Sakura had been his long time crush and while she'd never liked him back, he'd always thought that maybe. . .

Or it could have been the fact that Sasuke, his ex (it still felt funny to think of him that way) was on the rebound.

Almost angrily, he slung his books into his backpack. He was about to throw it on his back and leave as quickly as he could, but something made him stay.  
That something was the snippets of conversation he was catching.

" - I was wondering if you'd like to go to the fair with me, Sakura," Sasuke all but cooed. His voice was coated in sugar and it made Naruto's stomach twist.

"Oh, Sasuke!" Sakura gushed.

Envy consumed him. He still wasn't sure why, but it did. He practically ran out of the room.

Two could play this game, he decided, anger and jealousy coursing through his veins. And this time, Sasuke wouldn't be the winner.

- - - - - - - - - -

Iruka sighed. Kakashi glanced over at his fellow teacher, silently asking him what was wrong. The younger teacher rolled his eyes. "Naruto's what's wrong," he said, humourlessly.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow, asking another question. Iruka sighed again. "Oh, he's been skulking around the house for the past week, like some sort of. . .I don't know what, but it's driving me batty."

Kakashi was glad they were alone in the lounge. If anybody else witnessed Iruka seeming so dejected, it would have been a crisis. For some reason, most of the teachers thought Iruka only had one mode: really cheerful. And most of them complained about it, but if Iruka acted otherwise, hell must have frozen over.

Kakashi had never understood people. They were all crazy, as far as he was concerned.

"He won't talk to me about it. He won't tell me what's wrong. There's something wrong."

"Maybe you should stop prying?"

This earned the silver-haired teacher a glare from the brunet. Kakashi cowered a bit. Iruka was scary when he was mad.

Again, the younger teacher sighed. "I think it's got something to do with Sasuke - they haven't spoken to each other all week. Not even an insult."

Kakashi frowned. "Do you think maybe they. . ." He waved his hand about, as if to indicate what he meant and trailed off. "Split," he finished finally, noticing that Iruka was sporting the "you're-holding-me-in-suspense-here-hurry-up-and-finish-you-absent-minded-fool" look. He suspected he had to give that look to Naruto quite often as the blond was easily distracted.

Iruka didn't reply for a moment. "That's what I'm afraid of."  
"Naruto mention going to the fair?" Kakashi enquired.

Iruka shook his head. "Not a word. And worse, I heard a rumour that Sasuke asked Haruno Sakura to go."

Kakashi grimaced. "Ouch. Not good."

Iruka sighed. "The thing that worries me is that Naruto doesn't seem sad about it. He seems mad."

Kakashi bit his lip. "Do you think he's planning to get back at Sasuke?"

Iruka gave Kakashi a pointed look. "I wouldn't put it past him," he grumbled.

"Hn," was what Kakashi said in reply.

They fell silent.

- - - - - - - - - -

At ten to eight, Saturday evening, Lee showed up on Sakura's doorstep. The fair grounds were just a short walk away.

Lee was grinning ear to ear. He had been ecstatic all week and now, his excitement was coming to a head. He felt like he had been walking on air all evening.

He knocked on the door.

He smiled wider. He was going on a date with Sakura!

His pink-haired princess opened up the door, just finishing putting an earring in her ear. "Hi Sa- " She stopped short when she noticed who was standing at the door. Her smile and cheery attitude took a nose-dive. "Hi Lee," she grumbled. Just great. Why couldn't Sasuke have shown up first!

Lee smiled and offered her the flowers he had picked especially for the occasion. "These are for you, Sakura," he said, his smile getting even wider. If he kept that up, his face would break in half before the evening was over.

Just then, another, less cheerful fellow decided to turn up on the Haruno doorstep. It was none other than one brooding, Uchiha Sasuke. He looked less than thrilled, but it didn't deter Sakura from squealing and throwing herself at her "dark prince", knocking poor Lee out of the way in the process.  
"Sasuke!"

Sasuke merely grunted in reply and peeled the overly-clingy girl off him. Lee glared at Sasuke, then appealed to Sakura, feeling hurt and rejected.

"Sakura! What is he doing here! I thought we were going to the fair together!" he cried, feeling terribly, terribly wronged. He just knew he'd been duped.

Sakura fidgeted nervously. She hated awkward situations! "Um. . .well, I tried to tell you I was going with someone else, Lee," she said, trying to sound as apologetic as she could. It was hard to do, as she was standing right next to the love of her life, feeling like she could burst with joy.

Unsure of what else to say, she grabbed Sasuke by the wrist and dragged him off to the fair ground. "Bye Lee!" she cried loudly, waving her hand frantically, as she ran away.

Lee's cheerful mood deflated and the flowers in his hand might as well have wilted as he held them.

- - - - - - -

Ino was not happy. No, she was not happy at all. Shikamaru, in her opinion, had led her on. And in all truth, he had. He had asked her to go to the fair with him. He had failed to mention that it wasn't a date and that he was taking a group of people with him.

Ino fumed as she walked alongside her friend, prepared to hit him as hard as she could the next chance she got.

First off, there was Chouji. Ino found the boy disgusting, as he was always stuffing his face with something. He wasn't thin, but he wasn't necessarily grotesquely fat either. He was Shikamaru's best friend, so he had to be tolerated.

Then, Shikamaru had invited Kiba and his "date", Hinata. Kiba had agreed, only because he thought that it might help Hinata relax a bit. Being one on one with another person you barely knew could be very nerve-wracking and everyone knew Hinata was very shy.

Kiba had also invited another person, Shino. Shino was tall and silent, and he never said much. He was supposed to be very good at biology and the sciences, but he kind of creeped Ino and most everybody out. It was said he collected live insects and kept them in his room. Ino shuddered at the thought.

Next, there was Neji, who would have never gone anywhere willingly, except for when he was dragged somewhere by TenTen. Ah, the things people did for love. Needless to say, Neji was sulking. TenTen was fairly good company, however. Hinata was just too shy, and the fact her cousin was there seemed to have compounded it.

Currently, they had just been joined by one loudmouthed loser, Uzumaki Naruto. Shikamaru didn't seem to mind Naruto, even was on the verge of forming a friendship with the blond and it irked Ino. She didn't want to be seen with the biggest loser in the whole school!

So, they rambled on in one big group, as teenagers often do, toward the fairgrounds. Shikamaru was being lazy and slightly annoyed, Chouji was talking about cotton candy, Ino was fuming, Neji was sulking, TenTen was chatting to Ino. TenTen was notorious for being able to carry on a one-sided conversation for hours. Hinata was being shy and quiet, Kiba and Naruto were yelling and being very, very hyperactive. Shino merely followed along behind them, like a shadow.

This is how they were when they came upon one very sad and dejected Lee. "Hey Lee!" Tenten cried, racing over to meet one of her friends.

Lee just looked at her sadly. She frowned. "Hey, what's wrong? I thought you were going to the fair with Sakura!"

"She went with Sasuke," Lee murmured, piteously.

Ino was there in a second. "What? She actually got away with that! But I thought -"

She glanced back at Naruto, who was having a yelling match with Kiba.

Lee shrugged. "Apparently, Sasuke asked her."

Ino stood there, bewildered. "What? That makes no sense! Unless -"

She frowned. "Unless he's being a total prick."

She glanced over at Naruto again. The blond noted she was looking his way and looked away quickly. It wasn't like she cared about what Sasuke had done to Naruto, if he'd done anything at all, but the fact was, if he was still with said blond idiot and he was going on a date with Sakura, he was being a prick and he'd do it again.

"What an asshole," she muttered.

TenTen frowned. "Do you think they broke up?" she asked and again, Lee shrugged.

TenTen shrugged lightly and clapped Lee on the back. "Oh well! Forget them! Come with us - we're gonna have a blast!" she said enthusiastically.

Lee smiled. TenTen winked. "Besides, you can try again later! You know you'll win in the end!"

Lee's good humour was coming back to him now. "Yes! You're right TenTen! I'll never give up on Sakuran!"  
He ran off to join the group. Ino glanced at Tenten. "You know how to cheer him up," she commented.

TenTen shrugged. "Lee's not hard to cheer up. It's Neji that's the absolute miser," she said with a frown and a glare in Neji's direction.

The group continued on to the fair grounds.

- - - - - - - - -

It was nearly eleven o'clock and the fair ground would be closing in about an hour's time. The group was rushing to and fro, trying to fit in a multitude of activities. They were having a lot of fun, even Shikamaru, who kept saying everything was "so tiresome", and Neji, who was being absolutely miserable.

As luck would have it, they ran into the conspicuous couple of Sasuke and Sakura. They talked with them, well, more of them talking to Sakura, as Sasuke didn't say much, and after about ten minutes, convinced them to join up with the group and do a few last minute things.

Ino and Sakura fell back. The blonde looked pointedly at her friend. "What's this all about?"

Sakura looked at her, bemused. "What's what all about?"

"You know," Ino hissed. "I heard Sasuke asked you."

Sakura broke into a toothy grin. "He did! I was really surprised, but he did!"

Ino stole a glance at Sasuke, who was currently involved in a glaring contest with Neji. Would those two ever get along? Probably not.

She looked back at Sakura. "Didn't you think it was odd though? I mean, he's with -"

"Naruto and him broke up," Sakura said quickly, cutting Ino off. "He said so himself."

Ino blinked. "Really? But did he say it was a mutual break up? Or why they did?"

Sakura glanced at her date warily. "Are you suggesting that he's using me to try and make Naruto jealous?"

"Just a thought," Ino muttered.

Sakura laughed lightly. "He broke up with Naruto. If it had been the other way around, I'd be worried."

Ino glanced again at Sasuke. "I'm worried still. Sasuke doesn't seem like the 'rebound' type," she said, waving her hand about a bit.

Sakura didn't reply. At last, she said, "Ino. You're just jealous."

Ino stared at her. Her mind was yelling at her to smack some sense into the pink-haired idiot she called 'friend' beside her. Couldn't Sakura tell she was just interested in her best interests! After all, what were best friends for!

"I'm over him," she said coolly, glaring at the back of Shikmaru's head. "I was supposed to be here with pineapple-head, but he decided to bring along some friends," she muttered darkly.

Sakura's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You're on a date with Shikamaru?" she asked, sounding incredulous.

"Yes, now shush! I don't want everybody to know!" Ino whispered angrily, her cheeks turning a little red, though it was hard to see in the darkness.

Sakura smiled. "Good for you! I always knew you two would make a wonderful couple!" she gushed.

Ino wanted punch her. Who made Sakura an expert on relationships anyways! She frowned and said, a little louder, "That wasn't very nice, what you did to Lee."

Sakura frowned and said nothing. Ino ploughed on. "I mean, he was really upset. And don't tell me you wouldn't feel the same way if you're beloved Sasuke did the same thing to you."

Sakura lowered her head in shame. "I know, but. . . I don't want to lead Lee on. He's a nice guy and everything, but I just don't like him like that. I think it was better this way, than if I crushed him later."

Ino pursed her lips and said nothing for a long while. "Well, he'll be there for you if Sasuke does anything stupid. He's not a bad guy. You really should give him a chance. I mean, Sasuke's nice looking, but he's such a prick."

Sakura made a face. "You're right. But. . .I think he can be nice. When he wants to be."

Ino sighed. "Sakura, just remember, you can't change people, no matter how hard you try. Don't get in too deep."

With that said, she walked ahead a bit, to walk beside her "date." Sakura nearly laughed when she saw Ino punch Shikamaru, having no idea that Ino would have liked to smack her too and poor Shikamaru was receiving Ino's abuse on her behalf.

Though, even if she had known, she still would have laughed. It was funny to see Shikamaru get beat up by Ino.  
Meanwhile, up at the front, things were a little more awkward. Most of the boys had been silent for about ten minutes. In fact, the thing that broke the silence had been Ino storming up and hitting Shikamaru, who started whining.

Kiba found this terribly funny and proceeded to make fun of Shikamaru. "Getting beat up by your girlfriend, huh, pineapple-head? That's sad, really sad."

Ino glared at Kiba. "Shut up, or you're next."

Almost needless to say, Kiba shut up. Ino was a scary person when she was angry.

The rest of the group was silent. Shino was silent by nature. Hinata was too shy to say anything. Neji wasn't the talkative type either. Tenten and Lee were absolutely dumbfounded as to why Ino was beating up their friend. Sasuke was busy glaring at the back of Neji's head, hoping maybe the Hyuuga boy would spontaneously combust. Chouji had some cotton candy and was preoccupied with such. Naruto was quiet because he was standing too close to Sasuke for comfort.

Half of him wanted to deck the other boy and beat him into a bloody pulp and scream at him. The other half of him wanted to cry and was vainly hoping that if he did break down, Sasuke would taking him lovingly into his arms and -

Blah. His thoughts were making him gag. Since when had he become so utterly mushy and romance-loving and - girl-like!

"Fuck you, Sasuke," he muttered aloud, completely forgetting he was standing within five feet of the cursed one.

Sasuke gave him a funny look and he went red and looked away.

"Naruto, is there something you want to say to me?" he asked, his voice cold and slightly bitter.

Naruto's face twisted up in anger and he turned back to glare at Sasuke. "Yeah! Yeah there is something I want to say to you! Fuck you, you stupid asshole! Fuck you! Go fuck yourself, you jerk! I hate you!"

Sasuke regarded him coolly, then said, "Nice to know."

He turned away. Naruto grabbed him by the wrist, digging his nails into the pale skin angrily. "You listen here!" He was on the verge of tears. "I don't know what the fuck your problem is, but you could have let me down a little easier! 'I never want to see you again' is pretty fuckin' harsh! But what the fuck do you care! You're a bastard and you don't give a fuck about anybody but yourself and -"  
"Now, hang on a minute," Sasuke hissed, interrupting Naruto's rant. "You weren't just raped brutally, now were you? Were you! Would you want to see anybody in all the world after that! I didn't - I still don't! I want to be left alone! I'm scared, you know that! I don't like to be scared, Naruto!"

They failed to notice that the group had moved on and continued to stand there, yelling at each other.

"So! You still could have been a little nicer!"

"Nicer!" Sasuke's voice was shrill with anger. "Nicer! You want me to be nicer! You know what! Next time, I'll just let Gaara rape you, you ungrateful little fuck! See how the fuck you like it! See how nice you are after that!"

"What the fuck are you saying! Gaara raped you, not me -"

"He was after you, you fucking idiot!" Sasuke grabbed Naruto by the shoulder and shook him roughly, angrily. "I did that for you and this is how you fucking thank me!"

"You're the one who dumped me, you jerk -"

"Oh, just shut the fuck up!"

Sasuke forced his lips to Naruto's, plunging his tongue into the blond's mouth. Naruto struggled a bit, surprised and still angry.

When Sasuke let go of him, Naruto glared back up at him. "What the hell was that for!" he cried. How could - Why did! His brain wasn't working properly. One of his thoughts even had the gall to say, "Well. That was nice."

Sasuke looked at him, as if searching for the words. "I did everything because I love you," he said finally.

Naruto snorted. "That's what you said before!" he cried, tears brimming in his eyes. "And then you turned around and dumped me!"

"I'm serious, Naruto -"

"Words! That's all they are! They don't mean a goddamn thing!"

"Fine," Sasuke growled. "Don't believe me."

"I won't!" Naruto cried indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Sasuke growled, but said nothing more. Instead, he started walking away.  
Gods! Naruto made him so mad!

Naruto just stood there, in the dark, amid the noise and lights and general cheeriness of the fair, watching Sasuke go.

- - - - - - - - - -


	11. Reunion

(Author's Note: If you're reading, please remember to review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 11: Reunion

Iruka was called back from the fuzzy realms of sleep by a large crash, like the sound of the door slamming shut. He blinked, realizing he'd left the front door unlocked for Naruto. He sighed and clambered out of bed. "Naruto. . ."

The crash was followed by the sound of bare feet slapping angrily against the hardwood floor, then several thumps, issuing from the piano.

Iruka trod down the stairs and rounded the corner, walking into the living room. He hung back a moment, surveying the pitiful sight before him.

Naruto was sitting at the piano, his face turned away from the stairwell, his head resting upon his hands. His elbows were pressed against the white keys of the piano. The blond boy's shoulders were shaking slightly. The moonlight washed the scene out, making it an escapade of shadows and moonbeams, of darkness and the ethereal.

Iruka padded into the room. He didn't say anything, not even when he sat down on the bench with his adopted son. Naruto didn't say anything either, taking tight hold of Iruka's hand and wiping away tears with his free hand.

They were silent for a long, long time. 

"Why is it so confusing?" Naruto murmured, sounding docile and drowsy after a silence that seemed to stretch for eternity.

Iruka didn't reply. It wasn't a question that demanded an answer. In fact, Naruto had probably only said it merely to break the silence and explain what he was feeling, although it left his problem very much cryptic.

Naruto sighed and pushed himself away. His face was contorted in a mask of anger. "I don't care if he thinks he loves me or not. I don't need him," he spat acidly, before rising from the piano bench and heading toward the stairs.

"I'm going to bed," he said, then ascended the stairs.

Iruka sighed and looked at the piano keys, stained with teardrops that glittered in the rum moonlight. "Don't be mad at him," he advised the darkness. He sat in the dark, contemplative, until the clock struck twelve.  
- - - - - - - - - -

Sasuke walked Sakura home, but he ignored her. She tried to make him smile, tried to lighten his mood by chattering about anything, everything, but to no avail. His eyes remained distant and cold, focussed on some far away goal. She had the funny feeling that he wasn't even hearing what she said.

"Why do you do this to me?" she asked suddenly, coming to a stop in the middle of the road. She didn't sound angry, she didn't sound sad. She merely sounded curious. She watched him pause, then stop and look back at her, looking at her, really looking at her.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, a gesture she guessed that meant he was frustrated. "I. . .I don't know," he said softly, and looked back at her, as if he had seen her for the first time.

They were silent for an awkward moment. Surprisingly, it was Sasuke who broke the silence. "Sakura. . ," he said and his voice was gentle, with no trace of the sharp, cold tone he usually used. His voice was almost. . .almost warm.

"You're a beautiful girl," he said. "But. . .I can't. . .I don't. . .We. . ." 

He sighed and looked away. "I don't know. I. . .just. . .can't. . ._like_ you."

They were silent again. "I. . .just hope you understand what I mean," he finished finally. 

Sakura felt her bottom lip tremble. Her long time crush was breaking her heart again. Gods, she was such an idiot! He'd crushed her once, what had made her think he'd change, that maybe the second time round would be different! She wanted to throw a tantrum, and scream and yell and throw something and hit something. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream that it wasn't fair. She wanted to beg Sasuke to tell her why, why she wasn't good enough for him! 

Instead, she bit her lip and looked away. Somehow managing to keep the tears at bay and the emotions out of her voice, she looked back at Sasuke and said, "You really love him, don't you?" 

Sasuke said nothing in reply. He threw his gaze skywards. Sakura looked down at the ground, realizing that was her answer. 

"It's the ones we love the most that cause us the most pain, Sakura."

She looked up at the boy, and she almost swore she saw tears glittering in his eyes. She thought for a moment, thinking of all the times her parents had made her cry, of all the times Ino had made her mad, of all the times she'd crushed poor Lee, of how Sasuke was crushing her now.

"That's very true," she murmured.  
"It's late," Sasuke said, the sharp edge returning to his icy voice. She looked up and discovered the mask was in place again and the real Sasuke was gone again. "You should get home," he continued.

She nodded and started to walk, albeit slowly, heavy thoughts weighing her down. She was surprised when Sasuke continued to walk with her. She'd thought he'd meant for them to part ways and return to their own homes. 

She glanced shyly up at him. "Sasuke?"

"Hn." 

She became very interested with a rock on the path. ". . .Does. . .we can be friends, right?"

She looked up at him, her eyes full of hope. She could at least be his friend! She understood him, she really did. Pain. . .She understood it, the torment of emotions.

Sasuke looked at her, then drew a sharp breath and said, "No."

Sakura felt herself deflate like a balloon that had just been popped. "What? Why not?" she cried, now struggling to catch up with him, as she had stopped in her shock, while he kept moving.

"Because."

For the first time in her life, she felt her blood boil in anger, anger directed toward Sasuke. She wanted to know why and 'because' was not a reason! She demanded to know why Sasuke would not be her friend! 

She opened her mouth to begin a rant, but stopped short as she realized Sasuke had stopped in front of her driveway. She glanced toward the porch, her eyes making out the shape of a person slumped over on the wooden veranda. It was her mother, her face buried in her hands, sobbing bitterly. Broken dishes littered the front steps. She could only guess what her mother looked like - blood, cuts, scrapes, bruises.

She glanced over at Sasuke, realizing he'd been looking at her, waiting for her to say something. She couldn't think of anything to say. He nodded curtly and there was a brief second where his hand was on her shoulder as he began to walk away. 

"Let's get out of here," he said as he began to walk away.

It took her a second to come out of her stupor, then she chased after him, feeling slightly comforted by his offer of taking her away. Maybe there was a chance he really was her prince, come to rescue her from the fire-breathing dragons of hell.  
- - - - - - - - -

"Good grief. . .we went to a fair. A fair. And you're plastered."

"Hee. . .you look like a woman." 

Itachi's eye twitched as he glared at his _supposedly_ 'older, more responsible' boyfriend. Orochimaru was using him as a human crutch, stumbling along the sidewalk, tripping over his own two feet, singing loudly and badly, being lewd and generally, all-around drunk.

Itachi still didn't know where Orochimaru had found any booze, let alone booze enough to get him hammered like that. "I can't take you anywhere," he muttered.

Orochimaru smiled a lop-sided, drunken smile and coiled a strand of his lover's hair about his finger. "Sure ya can. . .the bedroom's a good start. . ."

Itachi closed his eyes and started chanting, "I will not murder you, I will not murder you."

"Oh, so you like it violent and bloody like that, huh? I'm down with that." 

"All right. I've had enough of you," Itachi stated, glaring at his boyfriend. Orochimaru smiled back.

"I'll never've had enough of you, honey-bunny," the older boy slurred, stumbling into Itachi, who had turned a funny shade of red.

"Oh, you are going to wish you had never been born, Orochimaru," he hissed acidly, which only made the other boy laugh.

"Whoo! Bondage!" Orochimaru shouted.

Itachi gritted his teeth and continued to drag his boyfriend along. "I don't know why I put up with you," he growled.

"The sex is good?" Orochimaru offered.

"Is that all you ever think about?"

"Most likely. But who says I think? Thinking is overrated!"

At that point, Orochimaru decided he needed to serenade Itachi, the "prettiest woman-whore in the whole of Never-Never Land."

It was about that point that Itachi picked up a rather sizeable rock and used it to knock Orochimaru out and drag his boyfriend's sorry, comatose ass back home.  
He raised an eyebrow upon meeting Sasuke at the gate. Sasuke mirrored his expression. Itachi pointed at the pink-haired teenage girl who was apparently accompanying his little brother.

"Who's this?" he asked.

Sasuke opened his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by another, slurred voice. "That your whore for tonight, Sasuke?"

Sasuke dashed his forehead against his palm. Sakura's eyes widened in shock and insult. Itachi glowered at Orochimaru. "Didn't I knock you out several feet back?" he asked, eyeing his boyfriend skeptically.

Orochimaru grinned. "Oh, you can knock me all you want, baby."

Sakura looked like she was about to faint. How lewd! How crude! How rude! Sasuke rolled his eyes and proceeded to introduce his relative, and his comrade, to his classmate. "Sakura, this is my brother, Itachi, and his friend, Orochimaru. Orochimaru, Itachi, this is Sakura." 

Itachi caught Sakura's horrified expression and sighed. "He's drunk," he said, pointing to Orochimaru.

Sakura smiled nervously, snapping out of her stupor. "Oh. . .uh. . .hi," she said, her eyes darting about nervously.

"Pretty little slut, aren't ya?" Orochimaru said, with a wink.

Sakura screamed and ducked behind Sasuke. This freak was hitting on her! Ew! 

Itachi rolled his eyes and dragged Orochimaru to the front door. "Just a moment," he called to Sasuke. "I'll take care of this."

The two older teenagers disappeared inside. There was a terrible, resounding cry from inside and Sakura stared wide-eyed in horror at the door. "W-What are they doing in there?" she asked timidly.

Sasuke sighed. "Damn. That's another lamp. . ."

Sakura gave him a funny look, then followed him up the walk, her eyes darting about.

She followed Sasuke into the house and sighed in relief. Orochimaru was on the floor, unconscious. Itachi was standing over him, the remnants of what used to be a lamp held firmly in his hand.  
Sakura glanced at Sasuke. "This happens often?" she asked, slightly afraid of the answer. 

Sasuke nodded. Sakura sighed. She decided she didn't like Sasuke's family.

- - - - - - - - - -

Ino steadfastly refused to talk, or even look at Shikamaru. The black-haired boy had been trying to explain to the irate blonde why he'd "led her on" until moments ago, when he gave up, deeming it "too troublesome."

Honestly! She would have never agreed to go with his friends willingly and he had never, ever said that it was an official "date". Ino had said herself that she would have gone with Sakura, and he seriously doubted Ino would have meant that as a date.

Besides, didn't a girl kind of need to get along with a boy's friends if they were dating? He knew it worked in reverse, so why shouldn't it work the same with his friends?

He gave up trying to figure it out. Girls made no sense, even at the best of times.

He snapped out of his thoughtful reverie, realizing he was standing on Ino's doorstep. Ino was looking at him, almost shyly. She was smiling sweetly and Shikamaru was afraid for his life.

And he was right in being so scared. It was throughly a surprise when the blonde girl leaned forward and brushed her lips gently against his cheek, pulled back and continued smiling.

He barely heard her whispered words through his idiotic stupor.

"I had fun tonight. Goodnight, Shikamaru."

And with that, she disappeared into the house, leaving him stupefied on her front stoop. Realization dawning on him that the last scene was entirely like a cheesy romance film, he made a gagging noise as an elaborate display of disgust and then, deciding being disgusted took too much effort, strolled leisurely away from the house, back to his own.

- - - - - - - - - -

It was early October. The wind was brisk and the dry, dead leaves scudded across the ground, crunching when stepped on. The sunset was getting earlier by the day, and soon, the students would be waking in the dark and walking home in the dusk.

It was one such evening that Uzumaki Naruto decided to take a detour from his usual route home. He headed toward the conservation park near the edge of town, away from home, away from safety.  
The sun was setting just beyond the hills covered with dead grass. The dark shapes of the trees loomed up, their naked branches clawing at the rainbow sky. A bitter wind blew.

Naruto, as spontaneous as he was, was not without his reasons for coming out this way on such a night. As the stars began to dot the sky, the path that had been worn down by visitors over years and years came to an abrupt stop. The trees grew thick here, bunching up together, their limbs twining in some sort of lovers' greeting. You had to find your own way through.

Something flickered bright, then fell to the ground, the orange glow it held sputtering and dying. The scent of cigarette smoke mingled with the spicy fragrance of autumn leaves. The wind blew, and the leaves scuttled along the ground. Nothing was said for a moment or two. 

Naruto shifted, uncomfortable with being silent. "You know why I'm here," he said, seemingly to the dark landscape. It was too dark to see anything beyond the murky shadows.

In the darkness, something shifted, scratching against the bark of a tree. Naruto continued, undeterred. "You're right. He doesn't know anything about me. From now on, I'm doing whatever the hell I want."

More rustling, then someone said, in a voice that was thick and raspy from having inhaled nicotine, "You're as low him then."

Naruto frowned but said nothing, waiting for the shadow to explain itself.

The other being unfurled itself from the darkness, from the shadows and began to circle him. Sharp green eyes pierced him, like an arrow, peering out from the darkness. "Using me to get back at him, to hurt him. You know that's what you wanna do. And you know that's just what he's done with that new bitch of his."

Naruto followed the eyes with his own, never breaking contact. He wasn't going to back down. "I don't care how low it is. I want to break him."

There was the distinctive sound of a lighter being lit, and for an instance, in the flash of the flame, the person was visible. Red hair, green eyes rimmed with black, pale skin. . .

The person, who was surely another male from his voice, had lit another cigarette. He exhaled, as if sighing in resignation and looked directly at Naruto. "He's already broken."

Naruto winced at the words. He knew what they had meant. "Still," he said weakly, for the first time, looking away, to the ground, the sky and anywhere but those eyes. 

His gaze was forced roughly upwards and he was forced to stare into the emerald orbs. "I never said I wanted you to be my bitch, Naruto. I said I wanted you to be my friend."

Rough, calloused fingers stroked his cheek for a prolonged moment, then released him. He nearly stumbled back in fright. "Gaara. . ." 

The green-eyed boy glared at him. "No, Naruto. I'm not gonna be an instrument for you're petty games. Either you like me for me and on your own terms, or you don't. I'm not going to pretend to go out with you."

The red-haired one flicked his cigarette butt to the ground. He turned and walked away. "I'll see you around," he said, holding up his hand, in some sort of parting ritual.

Naruto looked at the ground thoughtfully for a moment. He thought about calling after Gaara, thought about trying to stop him from leaving, but he hesitated and when he looked up, there was naught but shadows.

He sighed and turned away from the lonely woods.

- - - - - - - - -

It had been a bright and sunny Sunday afternoon in Konoha. And now, after the day was done and the night had fallen, everyone had settled back into their routines, getting ready for another week of school and work. 

Well, not quite everybody. Naruto was currently being lectured about how it was rude to ignore guests and how when one had a talent, one should show that talent off. In the kitchen, one Hatake Kakashi was sitting on a chair, laughing his ass off.

Naruto stuck his tongue out at him and got smacked by Iruka.

"Now, Naruto," Iruka said in a tone that led Naruto believe he was wrapping up his speech. "Will you please play the piano for Kakashi? Please?"

Iruka sounded like he was begging and it really bugged Naruto when the older man did that. "Fine, fine," he muttered, glaring at Kakashi as he walked to the piano and sat down. He made a face at the kitchen doorway, cracked his knuckles and . . .

Stood up. Iruka gave him a funny look. "Naruto. . .what are you doing. . ."

In the kitchen, Kakashi started laughing. "That's a funny way to play the piano, all the way from across the room and -"

Naruto ran by the teacher and opened the front door, then ran outside, slamming the door shut.

"- outside," Kakashi finished, feeling rather insulted for having Naruto run outside during the middle of his perfectly good joke. 

Iruka walked up to the door and peered out the window. "What on earth is he doing?" he asked, and just then, he caught sight of the other teenager standing outside, conversing with Naruto. In the cold. In the pouring rain.

Naruto, meanwhile, was conversing with a very ragged looking Sasuke. He wasn't all too happy about seeing Sasuke on his walkway, nor was he too happy to see the other boy at all. "What the hell are you doing here!" were the first words out of his mouth.

Sasuke just gave him a tired look. Of course, that made Naruto bristle all the more. "What the hell! You think you can dump me, then go out with that. . .that. . .Sakura! And then, while you're out with her, why not just kiss me and tell me that you went and got yourself raped for me, just so you could get mad and dump me!"

Sasuke didn't even flinch. Naruto grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and shook him roughly. "Who the fuck do you think you are!" he screamed, probably loud enough for the entire street to hear him.

Sasuke sighed and pointed at the door. "Can we go inside and have this one-sided argument there?"

"What makes you think I'd invite you into my house! Huh! After what you did to me!"

Sasuke sighed again in exasperation. "If we stand out here, one of us is going to catch a cold, you moron. At least go somewhere warm and dry to bitch me out."

Naruto 'hmph'ed and crossed his arms, intent on not letting Sasuke go inside. Sasuke rolled his eyes and took Naruto by the arm, attempting to drag him up the walk. Naruto shoved him away. "Don't touch me," he growled.

Sasuke ignored Naruto's bad mood, shrugged and walked into the house, as if it were his own and this was a common thing. Naruto stared at the closing front door for a second or two, then dashed headlong down the walkway. He tugged viciously on the handle, but to no avail. "Sasuke!" he screamed. "Unlock the goddamn door!"

Sasuke peered out the window at the blond fool, smirking, until he noticed Iruka was standing right beside him and glaring at him pointedly. "Uh. . .hi, Iruka," he said, unlocking the door hastily and stepping aside.

Naruto, who hadn't been prepared for the door to unlock anytime soon, as this was Sasuke after all, tugged a little too hard on the door and stumbled inside, tripping over the doorstep and nearly landing flat on his face.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, as Naruto later thought, Sasuke caught him out of instinct and the blond found himself wrapped up in the other boy's strong arms. After only a second of hesitation, Naruto threw himself out of the dark-haired boy's grip, 'hmph'ing and rubbing his arms, as if to rid them of something he'd spilled on himself. He promptly began to ignore Sasuke.

Sasuke looked back at Iruka, who shrugged and said, "What brings you here, Sasuke?"

The ebony-haired teen sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "It's a long story," he said.

Iruka raised an eyebrow questioningly. Sasuke glanced about, as if nervous. "Um. . .well okay, not really. Itachi's. . .studying. . .with Orochimaru. I decided to stay out of their way."

Iruka barely believed that Sasuke would leave because his brother was studying, but he decided not to speculate. "And so," he prompted, waiting for Sasuke to ask the question he knew the teen wanted to ask.

Sasuke coughed, and said in a small voice, "I was wondering if I could stay here tonight."

Iruka was about to reply, when Naruto's voice, bold and impervious, interrupted him. "What makes you think you're welcome here? Huh? Go somewhere else! I don't want you here."

Sasuke glared at the blond, who sneered right back. Iruka fixed Naruto with 'the look' and said, "Now, Naruto. That's not very nice."

For once, Naruto wasn't intimidated. Normally, when Iruka said something in that tone, Naruto shut up and obeyed. But 'that's not very nice' wasn't a good choice of words given the current situation.

"Not very nice! Not very nice? You want to know what's 'not very nice'! I'll tell you what! Getting dumped by this asshole, just 'cause you try and be nice to him! 'I never want to see your face again!' Well, I don't wanna see yours either, Sasuke! I never, ever want to even hear your stupid voice! I want you to fall off a cliff and die! Die! Do you hear me! I want you to die!"

"Naruto -" 

"Shut up!" the blond cried, backhanding Sasuke as hard as he could.

The black-haired teen's eyes widened in surprise and held a hand to his cheek, feeling the angry red mark boil under his fingers.

Naruto continued screaming, ranting like a lunatic. "I don't care what you think of me! I don't care, Sasuke! I don't! You don't love me! You don't know what love is!"

The irate boy decided then would be a good time to make a 'stately' exit. He flung open the door, prepared to march out into the stormy night and. . .

He tripped over the doorstep and landed heavily on his stomach. A foot decided to embed itself in his rib cage just then. Sasuke's voice practically quivered with rage. "You. . .you! Gods!"  
Sasuke swore, turned away and rubbed his temples, as if he had a headache. Naruto got up, clutching his side. "Asshole," he hissed.

"Idiot," Sasuke retorted.

"Boys," Iruka cut in, rolling his eyes. "Arguing like this isn't helping. Sasuke, you're welcome to spend the night, and Naruto, you're going to put up with him and be friendly."

The brunet gave his blond charge a pointed look and Naruto managed a tight smile. "Yes, Iruka," he said through gritted teeth.

- - - - - - - - -

Naruto glared at Sasuke. Sasuke glared at Naruto. They said nothing, and moved not at all. Finally, Naruto sighed and slumped back on his bed. "I can't believe Iruka wouldn't let you sleep in the guest room," he groaned.

"Hmph," Sasuke said. "I don't want to be in here any more than you want me to be in here."

Naruto stared at the ceiling. "Can't say as though I blame Iruka. I wouldn't want Kakashi sleeping in my room, either."

Sasuke made no comment. Naruto sat up and looked at the dark-haired boy, almost venomously. "So. . .why aren't you sick and dying, like you should be?" he asked, his tone acidic.

Sasuke shrugged. "Don't know, don't care." His tone was cold and indifferent. 

"Hmph," Naruto said. "Life is so unfair. You're such an asshole and nothing bad ever happens to you."

Sasuke snorted in anger. "You moron. Bad things do happen to me. Or have you recently forgotten that my parents are dead? And then there was. . .that thing. . .And now there's you. You don't believe me, so what the hell's the point?"

Feeling uncharacteristically drained, Sasuke flopped back onto the makeshift bed on the floor and stared blankly at the ceiling. "What the hell is the point? You open up to someone, and this is what happens. It makes no sense." 

"Nothing ever does," Naruto said, strangely quiet, strangely logical. "It's all spur of the moment, just for the thrill."

Sasuke looked at the other boy, but the blond said nothing more. There was silence for a long, long time. And just as Sasuke was about to drop off to sleep, Naruto's voice, pained and tight, cut through the nighttime air.  
"Goddamnit!"

"God damn what?" Sasuke asked, yawning and resting his head against his pillow.

"God damn you, god damn me, god damn everything!" 

There was a rustling of bedclothes, and then, the noise stopped. Then, Sasuke found Naruto cuddling up against him, his big blue eyes watery with tears and lucid. "You're an asshole and I hate you, I really do."

Sasuke tried to find the words to speak, but Naruto was rambling again. "But. . .I'm the asshole for not believing you when you said that, especially when that's what I wanted to hear."

"Naruto. . .you shouldn't forgive me."

"I never said I was. I was asking you to forgive me."

Sasuke sighed. He wanted to hug Naruto, which was rare, and say that everything was all right and that everything was forgiven, even himself. "I can't forgive you."

Naruto blinked and looked at him stupidly. "Ah? What?"

Sasuke smiled, a little bit sorrowfully and stroked Naruto's cheek, very, very gently. "I can't forgive you until you forgive me, and I don't deserve to be forgiven. So I can't forgive you."

Naruto made a small noise of surprise, and tried to read the expression on the other boy's face. "Ah. . .I think I understand. . ." 

Naruto hesitated, but only for a second before shyly wrapping his arms about the other boy and nuzzling Sasuke's shoulder with his cheek. "I forgive you, Sasuke," he murmured, "I love you," he finished.

Sasuke sighed softly and wrapped his own arms about Naruto.

- - - - - - - - -

Band practice started at eight o'clock sharp Monday morning. The band was in full attendance.

"All right, today we'll be starting a new piece -"

Everyone sighed collectively. Trust Iruka to give them a new piece two weeks before a final performance.

Iruka glared and everyone shut up, turning to the specified page and picking up their instruments.

"Ready? Good."

On Iruka's signal, the instruments sounded, the resulting noise resounding in the halls of the school.

It was about half-way through the practice that Sasuke began to feel woozy. He felt light-headed and almost sick. The world in front of him was wobbling. He shut his eyes and paused in his playing, attributing his lack of air to that.

The woozy feeling persisted. He felt very, very weak. His limbs felt like they were made of lead. His stomach was churning violently, as the sea does when beset by a violent tempest. 

There was a pause in the playing and his hand shot up into the air. He could barely hear Iruka's voice. "Yes, Sasuke?" 

"May I be excused?" he asked, choking down bile and vomit.

Iruka blinked. "Of course. . ."

Sasuke was up in a flash, and leaving the room almost before anybody registered what was going on.

Iruka chanced a glanced over at Naruto. The blond looked startled, staring after Sasuke's retreating form. He felt Iruka's worried gaze and looked over at the teacher, concern scrawled all over his features.

From there, the practice proceeded till end, with Sasuke never returning.

As everyone filtered out of the room, Naruto got up and sighed. He gathered up his music, then walked over to where Sasuke had left his instrument. "I guess I'll pack this up and take it to him," he said, looking at the forlorn looking flute.

He tried to pry it apart. Iruka glanced over at the blond student, and nearly fainted. "Naruto! You're going to break it!"

"Eh?" Said teen paused and glanced up at the instructor.

Iruka sighed and sat down beside Naruto. "You don't take it apart at all," he said, proceeding to clean the instrument. Naruto watched, fuming slightly. Iruka rolled his eyes. "This isn't even the school's instrument. Can you imagine what would happen if you told Sasuke you broke his flute?"

"Uhhh. . .I didn't know it was his," Naruto volunteered, sheepishly.  
Iruka said nothing more and put the flute gently in its case. He handed it to Naruto. "Get to class," he said.

Naruto saluted and dashed off out of the room, leaving behind his own music. Iruka sighed. "How typical. . ."

- - - - - - - -


	12. Vignettes

(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! If you're reading, please remember to review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 12 : Vignettes

Naruto skidded to a stop in the doorframe of the English classroom, just as the bell rang, signalling the start of the day. Wide-eyed, he glanced furiously about the room. Finding no sign of Sasuke, he pushed himself away from the door and proceeded to take off down the hall again.

However, he never got farther than a few steps away from the door before he was grabbed by the back of his shirt and dragged - literally - back into the room.

"Brat, where do you think you're going? Class is in here."

Naruto struggled blindly against the teacher's grip, cussing and threatening Tsunade with promises of bodily harm. Not that this was anything new.

Once having successfully manoeuvred her student into the classroom, the blonde woman shut the door and glared at Naruto. Naruto glared right back.

"Take your seat, Uzumaki," she said, crossing her arms and walking to her desk. 

Naruto didn't budge.

"I said, take your seat." 

Still, Naruto refused to move. Then, with a sudden burst of inspiration, Naruto was moving. He made a headlong dash for the door, and surprisingly, he stumbled out into the hall. Recovering from his momentary shock, he took off down the hall before the damned hag of a teacher could catch him again.

He looked back only once, to see his teacher hanging out of the door. "Brat! Where the hell are you going!"

"None of your business, you old hag!" he retorted, then promptly turned a corner.

Tsunade sighed and rolled her eyes. Naruto was so going to fail English. She'd make sure of it. She shut the door behind her.

It was at that point, one Inuzuka Kiba decided to make a crack at Naruto's expense. "He probably ran off to find his boyfriend, Tsunade-sensei," he said, with utmost sincerity, gesturing to Sasuke's empty seat.  
A few of the kids chuckled. A few others just rolled their eyes. Honestly, couldn't Kiba just grow up? 

Tsunade merely sighed and commenced the lesson.

- - - - - - - - - -

Orochimaru poked Itachi with the end of his pencil. Itachi jumped slightly, then turned to glower at Orochimaru. 

The older boy just smirked. Then, he turned his expression serious and whispered, "What's wrong?"

Itachi said nothing and turned away. He returned his gaze to the question he was answering. His pencil scratched over the paper a few times, leaving some unintelligible marks that could be interpreted as numbers on the page.

Orochimaru waited.

Itachi sighed and let the pencil fall out of his hand, then glared at Orochimaru. "You're annoying, you know that?"

Orochimaru frowned. "No," he retorted. "I just do what's best for you."

Itachi rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Orochimaru poked him again. "Now, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Don't give me that crap, sweetie," Orochimaru said, feeling a little exasperated at his lover's lack of ability to openly admit things. He reached over and pinched the other boy's cheek, which got him slapped.

"Don't," Itachi hissed, glancing around, as if he expected some sort of ambush or something.

It was Orochimaru's turn to roll his eyes. "Good grief. You're such a contradiction. You say that you don't care what people think about you and then you pull this kind of shit."

He narrowed his eyes in annoyance.

Itachi said nothing in reply. Instead, they stopped talking and turned back to their respective work.

- - - - - - - - -  
Naruto's shoes slapped the floor and echoed, the slapping sound seeming twenty times louder in the empty hall. He glanced from left to right, trying to think of where Sasuke would have gone. Maybe he'd gone to the nurse's office?

How many freakin' washrooms did one school need!

He'd walked by six or seven at least!

Sighing, he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked into the next washroom he found.

Well, what luck! He found Sasuke on the first try!

Unfortunately, his "prize" didn't look too healthy. Sasuke was leaning heavily on the counter. All the colour had drained from his face, leaving him paler than new fallen snow. His hair straggled down his cheeks, sticking to them, clinging for dear life.

"Sasuke? Are you okay?"

The older boy shook his head, but made no reply. Apparently, he couldn't spare the breath to do it.

Naruto took a hesitant step toward Sasuke. "What's wrong?"

Sasuke looked up from the sink, giving him a pointed look, which told him everything and nothing at the same time.

Sunlight filtered in through the frosted window and danced across the counter top. 

Naruto walked into the rest room, until he was standing at Sasuke's side. Almost shyly, he put his hands on the dark-haired boy's shoulders. "Can you walk?" he asked, feeling rather stupid. He had no idea how to deal with this situation.

Sasuke shook his head. "Dunno," he puffed.

"You should see the nurse," Naruto mused.

Sasuke made no reply.

Naruto glanced down concernedly. "Sasuke?"

"What?" was his tired reply.

Naruto looked away. "Nothing," he mumbled.   
The sunbeams continued to play on the counter top.

They were silent for a long time. Hesitantly, Naruto reached down and took Sasuke's hand in his own. "Don't you die," he whispered, his voice choking up and belaying him.

Sasuke glanced up at him, as if confused by the statement.

Naruto said nothing more and merely tightened his grip on the cold, shaky hand with in his own. 

It all came crashing back.

Contrary to popular belief, Naruto did remember his parents, he had known them, if only so briefly that he barely recalled them at all.

He remembered. . .

His memory was foggy, and it was all in fractured pieces. He remembered his father - the same shock of blond hair, the same piercing blue eyes. And he remembered his mother, who had been slight and willowy in frame.

He remembered, failingly, that one day, his father had gone away. They place he had called home for such a short time was strangely silent and his mother cried all the time. He remembered trying to comfort her, but every time she looked at him, she'd burst out in tears anew.

His father had been sick. He hadn't understood it then, but his father had been dying.

He hadn't known it then, but he did now. His father was dead.

Shortly afterward, his mother had left him to some people he barely knew and never came to know any better. 

He could vividly recall her walking away. She never once looked back. He often wondered how she could condemn him to a life of misery and loneliness, without so much as looking back to make sure that he would be okay with these people.

He didn't know what had happened to her after that.

He didn't know, but he thought that maybe he'd been three or four at that point.

He didn't want that to happen again.

If Sasuke died, would someone else abandon him too?

He didn't want to lose anyone else. He didn't want to lose, he didn't want to lose. . .  
"Hey." 

The voice was soft, and fading, like a whisper of the summer wind, but it brought him back to his senses and he looked at Sasuke, who was looking up at him, trying to read his face.

Their hands were still entwined.

"What's wrong? You're crying."

Hastily, Naruto rubbed his tears away with the back of his hand. "Am not," he said defensively.

Sasuke smiled, ever so slightly. "Whatever," he murmured.

"You've got to see a doctor," Naruto said, helping Sasuke stand up and stay standing.

"Hn," was all Sasuke said.

- - - - - - - -

"K-Kiba. . .M-may I t-talk to you?"

Kiba turned around to face Hinata, who was standing slightly behind him, with her eyes downcast.

"Yeah, sure. What is it?" 

Hinata kept her eyes focussed on the floor. "Um. . .well. . .I just wanted t-to tell you that. . .uh. . .I didn't think it was very nice, what you said about N-naruto," she finished in a rush. Only then did she raise her eyes and look at Kiba.

Kiba regarded her for a moment, then shrugged and said, "Yeah. Whatever."

He started to walk away. She caught him by the wrist. "No! I mean it! Naruto doesn't deserve that kind of treatment, even if he is gay!" she cried.

Her outburst caught both of them off-guard. Hinata looked away, as if ashamed, a blush tinting her cheeks.

Kiba could only stare for a moment, and then his expression softened and he murmured, "Okay, Hinata. I won't say anything, especially if you don't want me to." 

Hinata smiled slightly. "Thank you," she whispered and gave his hand a gentle squeeze, just to show her gratitude.  
Then, without further conversation, she took off. Kiba sighed.

- - - - - - - - -

The locker door slammed. It quivered in fear, and so it should have been afraid. It was currently the most unfortunate object in the world. It had been the object Itachi had decided to vent his ire on.

Orochimaru, who was standing slightly to the younger's left, was just as vehement, if not more. "You know, you make me sick, sometimes, Itachi! You keep everything to yourself and you can't be bothered to get help!"

Itachi glared. "I don't need your help, anyway!"

"See! There you go again, always closing everybody off! Just face the facts! You are human!"

"I do not need anybody's help, Orochimaru! I'm sick and tired of relying on people!"

"Yeah, and you know what! It's even worse not relying on people, and having to be your own pillar of support, so take it while you can get it! People won't wait around forever!"

"Then why are you still here!"

"I'm not going to be, 'cause, dammit, I'm getting sick and tired of waiting for you to come to your senses!"

"Good!"

"Fine!"

They didn't care if everyone in the hall was staring at them. They just kept screaming at each other, until, finally, their paths separated and they went their separate ways.

- - - - - - - - -

Sakura hesitated, then walked into the nurse's office. She spotted Naruto instantly. He was sitting in a chair, fidgeting nervously.

She swallowed and approached him slowly.

This was going to be harder than she initially thought.

She'd never really conversed with Naruto before, and on any occasion she had, she'd gone out of her way to be unnecessarily cruel to him.  
Added to that fact was the lingering idea that she was obsessed with Sasuke, and appearing while he was supposedly very sick didn't help that image either. All in all, Naruto was probably going to think that she was merely there because she was worried about Sasuke.

And truthfully, she was. Even if he had said that they couldn't even be friends, she was going to prove that he was wrong for once.

But Naruto. . .

Naruto was going to think that she was apologizing to him and sympathizing with him, just to get to Sasuke. 

That wasn't the truth at all.

She cleared her throat and looked about nervously.

Naruto looked up, and for that brief second, she could see that his face was stained with tears and his eyes were full of regret and worry. Then, his face was gone again, hidden by the mop of gold that he called hair.

"What do you want?" he muttered and his voice was strained, as if he'd been drained of all emotion and was devoid of any sympathy.

She glanced around nervously. She tried to open her mouth to speak, but she couldn't find anything to say.

What could she say to him?

Apologizing wouldn't fix anything. Any hope of friendship that had ever been between them had been soiled and tarnished by her mistreatment.

". . .I'm sorry," she found herself saying, and she found herself surprised to feel so remorseful.

But it also sounded so pathetic, and so weak that she felt stupid the second it left her mouth.

"Everyone is," Naruto said and for once in her life, she was baffled by his words.

"They're all sorry," he said, continuing in a sort of broken way that almost scared her. "But it doesn't matter now."

She felt like asking him why it didn't matter, and why everyone was sorry, but he answered those questions before she could even ask them.

"He's going to die."  
Instantly, she was on her knees, glaring up at him. She closed one of her hands tightly about his wrist. "Don't say that!" she cried.

"Why not? It's the truth."

She felt anger welling up inside her. What had happened to the ever optimistic Naruto that everyone knew! This wasn't Naruto. She didn't know this person. Blue eyes drowned her in their sorrow.

She had never really known Naruto, had she?

But still! She felt desperate, and she desperately wanted to see the flamboyant Naruto of old and she lashed out with words to try and revive him.

"No! It's not the truth, you idiot! He's going to live, but he needs you to believe that too! You need to believe in him!"

She felt tears brimming in her eyes and she didn't know why. "Please! You can't give up on him. Not yet, not yet. . ."

She lowered her head in shame, her resolve too weak to go on and her eyes not strong enough to dam the tears that overflowed them now.

"Sakura. . ."

His hand rested on the top of her head. His voice was soft, condoling. She raised her eyes. "Go," he said and his expression trembled, belaying that he was on the verge of tears again.

She nodded once and she rose to her feet, not hesitating to stay where she had hesitated to go.

- - - - - - - - -

Naruto glanced up upon hearing footsteps. He really didn't want to be bothered right now, not while he was drowning in his own self-pity.

He recognized those shoes.

This person would not be easily deterred.

Gaara sat down next to him and for a long, long while, they were silent.

"I really am very sorry all this happened," the crimson-haired boy said finally.

His gaze was fixed on the wall, even when he said that, and even when Naruto looked at him.  
"I never meant for it to go so far."

Naruto turned his gaze back to the floor. Gaara said nothing more. They were silent for a long time more. 

Finally, Gaara rose from his seat. He looked pointedly at Naruto. "If you ever need anything, and I do mean anything, you know who you can turn to," he said.

With that, he was gone and Naruto was alone again. He sighed and settled back down in his chair.

- - - - - - -

The sun shone brightly down on the three o'clock world. Ino kicked a rock out of her path. Shikamaru was walking beside her.

They were acting like nothing had ever happened. Everything was perfectly normal between them. That kiss thing had never happened.

Shikamaru glanced over that blonde girl, trying to find the motivation to say to her what he'd been meaning to say all day.

She looked over at him, and they both abruptly looked away.

"Nice day," Ino commented dryly.

"Hn," Shikamaru retorted.

They said nothing more until they reached Ino's gate. The girl started up the walkway, into the front yard.

"Ino," Shikamaru said, leaning lazily on the gate.

She paused and turned back, her face curious.

"I'm sorry about Saturday. I could take you to the movies tonight, just you and me, to make it up to you." 

Ino smiled gently, but her expression turned almost bitter instantly. "I'm sorry, pineapple-head, but there's someone else I have to see."

"Huh?" was all Shikamaru said before Ino had escaped to the indoors.

Once again, Shikamaru decided that women made absolutely no sense at all.  
- - - - - - - - - 

Naruto walked through the partition quietly, careful not to make too much noise and attract attention. The nurse was at the office, on the telephone.

"Psst, Sasuke," he whispered, trying to get the allegedly sleeping boy's attention.

"Sasuke!" he called, jabbing the other boy in the arm roughly.

"What?" Sasuke growled, opening an eye.

"Just making sure you're not dead yet. By the way, school's been out for over an hour. Do you wanna go home yet?"

"Yes," Sasuke groaned, sitting up, slowly. "Stupid blanket," he muttered, peeling the thing away from him. "It's giving me a rash."

He showed Naruto his forearms, which were indeed, red with irritation.

"Well, then. Let's get out of here. The nurse is gone."

With Naruto's help, Sasuke managed to stand up. Once he caught his balance, however, he seemed to be fine. Well, almost. He was still a little shaky, and a little cold.

"What did the nurse say anyway?" Naruto asked, as soon as they were safely outside. 

Sasuke didn't reply.

Naruto felt his heart flutter nervously, though he didn't know why, exactly. It had to be bad, especially if Sasuke wouldn't tell him, or even hint at it.

"It's a relapse," he said finally. He didn't look at Naruto.

The blond blinked in confusion. "Relapse? Relapse of what?"

Sasuke shook his head. "Never mind, Naruto. It doesn't matter anyway." 

Naruto, however, felt that it did matter, and he felt that it mattered quite a bit. He bit his tongue and didn't say anything, trying to put trust in the idea that Sasuke would tell him when he was ready to tell him.

- - - - - - - - -

The front door swung open and Naruto and Sasuke stood in the doorframe and just stared for a moment or two.  
Sasuke sighed.

Itachi and Orochimaru were both sitting on the couch, pointedly not talking to each other. They were sitting as far apart from each other as they could.

"Let me guess. . .you two had another fight," Sasuke said, sarcasm and exasperation dripping from his words. 

Neither replied.

Sasuke sighed and turned his attention to other matters. "Come on Naruto. I still feel like crap."

With that statement, he hobbled upstairs, Naruto following him closely.

The downstairs was silent.

- - - - - - -


	13. Death of a Dream

(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! If you're reading, please remember to review! Disclaimers and warnings apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 13: Death of a Dream

Naruto curled a lock of Sasuke's hair about his finger idly, looking down at the sleeping boy. He was thinking hard, and yet, thinking about nothing at the same time. He sighed softly, and got up.

Sasuke mumbled something in his sleep and rolled over, sprawling across the bed. Naruto snorted. And people called _him_ a bed hog.

He padded down the stairs, trying to make sure they didn't creak under his weight. He was fairly sure that they had gone to bed, but he didn't want to risk waking Itachi or Orochimaru. They were scary enough beforehand.

He wandered into the kitchen. He felt strange, walking around in somebody else's house. He had no idea where anything was. He rooted through the cupboards, looking for a glass. He was parched and he wanted some water. After a minute or two, he gave up in frustration.

He paused, listening to the sounds of the house. It was eerily silent. He knew his own home creaked and groaned in the nighttime, as a result of being old. Irrational fear gripped him then, as he realized that one day, he was going to leave his house and never go back there to live again. He'd be stuck in another place entirely, somewhere set up completely differently and devoid of the hominess of home.

Sighing, he headed back upstairs, sans water. He was on familiar territory in Sasuke's room and it would soothe him to be back there. He paused in the hall, listening to the sleepy voices drifting from the far door. He ignored them and went back into Sasuke's room.

Sasuke was sitting up, glaring at him. His face had worry scrawled all over it, and Naruto could clearly make out the tear stains on the pale cheeks. "Where the hell did you go?" he cried, somehow managing to look incredibly worried and incredibly angry at the same time.

Naruto merely looked at him, confused, wondering why Sasuke was so upset. The dark-haired boy tore his gaze away and buried his face in the pillow. "I thought you left me," he said, his voice muffled by the pillow and choked with tears.

Naruto was scared. Sasuke wasn't supposed to cry. He was the strong one, the one who was supposed to protect him, and he wasn't supposed to damn well cry! "I just went downstairs," he said softly, Sasuke's distress making him feel incredibly guilty for it.  
Sasuke sniffed loudly. "I thought you went away and you weren't going to come back. I thought you left me here to die alone."

If the truth were to be told, Sasuke had just woken up from a particularly terrible dream, wherein Naruto had left him, and he'd been alone when he'd died. When he woke up to the empty room, it was too reminiscent of his nightmare to ignore.

"Who said you were gonna die!" Naruto cried suddenly, launching himself onto the bed, tackling Sasuke, pinning him to the bed.

The dark-haired boy gritted his teeth and tried to throw Naruto off of him. "It doesn't matter who said it!" he growled.

"You're not going to die!" Naruto retorted, shaking the other boy by the shoulders. "You're not, you're not, you're not!"

"Yes, I am!" Sasuke contradicted, still struggling against Naruto's hold on him. "I'm sick and if I don't die now, I'm just gonna die later!"

Naruto hit him, his eyes burning with tears. He didn't want to talk about people dying, he didn't want to talk about Sasuke dying, he didn't want to talk about change. "It's not true!" he hissed, tightening his grip on Sasuke's shoulders.

Sasuke's eyes widened as he realized the blond's next movement. "Naruto, no. Don't -"

His protests were cut short when, despite his struggles, Naruto's lips captured his own in an open-mouthed kiss. The blond's tongue passed by his lips, delving into his mouth, and as much as he fought it, he kissed back, helping the blond to condemn himself to infection.

Naruto broke this kiss, pulling back and licking the saliva off his lips. Sasuke, unable to do much more than vent, grabbed Naruto's arm and squeeze until the blood came, oozing into his fingernails. "You idiot," he hissed, his voice acid. "You absolute, fucking, idiot!"

Naruto winced and tried to take Sasuke's claws out of his flesh. "Sasuke -"

"I've got hepatitis B, you, you!"

Naruto paused, blinking stupidly. "What?"

Surprised, he sat back, letting Sasuke up. The black-haired boy removed his hand from Naruto's arm and hit him, as hard as he could. "Fucking retard!" he yelled. "Now you've got it too!"

Slowly, realization seemed to dawn on Naruto. "Oh. . .oh, shit. . ."  
"Gods!" Sasuke said, tearing at his hair. Blood laced in the black tresses. "How stupid are you!"

Naruto narrowed his eyes. "If you would have told me if the first place, I wouldn't have kissed you!"

"I didn't want you to freak out!"

"Oh, well, good job! 'Cause I'm sure as hell freaking out now!"

"Shut up! Just shut up!"

"Make me!"

"Idiot!"

"Asshole!"

And the fight descended from there into physical insanity, both boys brawling furiously. They hit, they bit, they scratched, they slapped, they punched, they kicked. They hurt each other in every way possibly, with one intent in mind: kill.

But that primal instinct was suddenly replaced by another, when they both lay on the floor, Naruto pinned under Sasuke. They were both bruised from head to toe, blood and cuts adorning their skin. The scent of blood was heavy on the air and it raised to the surface some primaeval instinct that had long been forgotten ever since humans became civilized.

Lips met lips with bruising force, each trying to hurt the other through the once pleasurable activity. He bit his lip, lapping up the resulting blood with gusto. The bloodlust and the sexual lust had come together to form some sort of hybrid.

His intent was to break the body beneath him, and once he was inside him, it was a much simpler task to attend to. He just needed the right amount of pressure to tear apart the innards, to smash his hips into a million pieces. . .

And he was forcing himself back up, gladly accepting the torture, because he knew that by smashing their hips together, he was hurting him too. His nails were buried deep in flesh, leaving long wounds that would surely become infected and fester.

A hand wound about his neck, tearing open the flesh, threatening to strangle him, so he kicked the boy on top of him, making him release his hold. In the split second of confusion, he flipped their positions, smirking down at him as he rode him.

Cruel fingers tore at his nipples, almost desperately and he could feel the same desperation building up inside of him.  
It hurt, oh, how it hurt, but in the end, it felt so incredibly good. . .

The carpet was splattered with blood, their hair was matted with it and it seemed they still had blood to lose.

And in the morning, their wounds were crusted over, and the bruises were brighter than they had been the night before. Swelling had occurred with some of the wounds. Naruto's ankle had been twisted and was now three times its normal size, black and blue. Neither of them could remember quite how or when that had happened.

The sheets were stained with dried blood.

They looked at each other with bruised, swollen eyes and they knew what they had done. Gingerly, so as not to hurt either one of them anymore, Sasuke took Naruto into his arms, winding the sheet about their abused bodies.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Breakfast," Itachi said shortly, setting the dish down in front of Orochimaru so hard it nearly cracked.

The older boy said nothing, but glared at Itachi. Though it was true they'd succumbed to their need for each other last night, they were still mad at each other.

However, all thoughts of trivial little fights were put out of their minds when Sasuke and Naruto wandered into the kitchen, hand in hand, looking incredibly guilty and incredibly beat up.

Orochimaru raised an eyebrow. Itachi gave the pair a funny look, but said nothing, instead, returning to be angry and spiteful, just as the egg in the frying pan was, as it was currently trying to burn the one who was cooking it.

Sighing, Orochimaru fixed Sasuke with a look. "What happened to you, Short Stuff?"

Sasuke looked at the floor and mumbled, "I don't wanna talk about it."

Orochimaru looked at Naruto, but to no avail; the blond was just as silent.

"Some like it rough," Itachi muttered, not turning away from his self-assigned task.

Sasuke glanced up, looking utterly mortified. Itachi glanced over his shoulder. "So, I suppose he's got it now too?" he asked, gesturing to Naruto.

Sasuke looked away guiltily, and didn't say anything. Itachi turned back to the stove. "As I thought."  
The remainder of breakfast was a terse and silent affair.

- - - - - - - - -

Iruka looked up, as somebody walked into the music room and gasped in horror.

Naruto waved weakly. "Hi, Iruka," he said weakly.

The brunet teacher was beside him in an instant, fussing over him, and of course, completely overreacting.

"What happened, Naruto? Did somebody beat you up? Did they hurt you bad? Do you need to see a doctor?"

Naruto pushed the overly-worried man away from him, shaking his head weakly. "I'm okay, Iruka. Really, I am."

"What happened?" Iruka demanded, looking sternly at the teenager in front of him.

Naruto sighed tiredly. "It doesn't really matter, Iruka. . .It can't be changed."

"What happened?" Iruka growled, placing a hand on Naruto's shoulder firmly, making the blond squeal in pain.

"Nothing happened, okay?"

Iruka glared. "Naruto."

The blond sighed and gave in. "Fine. Something did happen."

He paused, unsure of how to tell Iruka what he'd done. He glanced about nervously, then asked quietly, "Can we go into your office?"

Iruka looked mildly surprised. If Naruto wanted to tell him and make sure that nobody heard, it had to be something big. "Of course," he mumbled, almost absently. What could have happened!

Once the door to the office was tightly shut, Naruto took a deep breath. He was going to have to tell Iruka sooner or later.

"I kissed Sasuke and he got mad at me, so we had a fight and ended up having sex while trying to kill each other."

He let his eyes flutter shut and waited for Iruka to smite him. The hit never came. He opened an eye to see Iruka laughing at him. He flushed with colour. "What!"  
Iruka smiled and patted his head. "That was a funny story, Naruto, but now I want you to tell me what really happened."

"That is what really happened!" Naruto cried.

"Uh-huh. Sure. Now, who beat you up?"

"Sasuke did! And I beat him up! While we were having sex!"

Iruka looked skeptically at Naruto, frowning. "Naruto. . .the truth, now please."

"It is the truth!" Naruto screamed, unable to understand why Iruka didn't believe him.

He stopped screaming for a moment and just stared blankly at Iruka. Iruka stared back. "Oh, gods. . .you're serious?"

Naruto nodded, feeling the tears of shame start burning at his eyes as he looked at the floor.

"Uzumaki Naruto! What did I tell you about sex!"

Naruto refused to look up. "That's not the worst part," he murmured.

Iruka stopped yelling, but only for a second. "That's not the worst part! What's worse than that!"

Naruto gritted his teeth, steeling himself for Iruka's reaction to his next words. "Sasuke's got hepatitis B," he murmured softly, so softly that when Iruka was silent, he thought it was because he hadn't heard him.

He glanced up at the teacher, who had covered his mouth with his hand, his worried eyes fixed on him. There was a long silence, before Iruka said, "No. It's not true."

Naruto bit his lip. "I'm sorry, Iruka. It's true."

He found himself swept up in the teacher's arms. Iruka nuzzled the top of his head, and he could feel the older man's tears dampening his hair. "Tell me it's not true, Naruto. I don't want to lose you. . ."

Naruto unravelled himself from the embrace of his guardian. "We're not sure yet, Iruka, but it's more than likely I've got it."

Iruka looked up at him, eyes still watering.

Naruto smiled brightly. "Besides, it's not as lethal as most people think! I'll beat it, don't you worry, Iruka! I'm stronger than I look!"

And with that wave of unfelt enthusiasm, he departed, heading for his English class, leaving Iruka with the overwhelming feeling that he was going to lose his favourite person and be left with nothing more than a memory of that grin to haunt him forever.

It was then that Kakashi whirled into the office. "Hey, Iruka, what's up? Naruto's all black and blue -" he started, but never got any farther because Iruka broke down then, sobbing into his hands.

"Oh, gods! Naruto!"

Kakashi, unsure of what to do about the over-emotional teacher, placed a hand, hesitantly, on the younger man's back, trying his best to be comforting. "Hey, hey. What's wrong?"

Iruka turned to him, holding tightly onto his shirt, trying to hide his face. Slightly surprised, Kakashi lightly wrapped his arms about Iruka, very unsure of how to deal with the situation, but filled with the overwhelming desire to protect Iruka.

"Naruto's going to die!"

- - - - - - - -

Kiba really didn't want to speculate on the origins of either Sasuke or Naruto's wounds. Additionally, he had promised Hinata that he wouldn't make cracks about her beloved Naruto.

He wondered what she saw in the blond fool that she couldn't see in him. He was just as loud, just as stupid at times and just as obnoxious.

He sighed and turned his attention back to reading his book. However, he soon found that he couldn't focus on the words written on the page.

Just what was it that Naruto had and he didn't?

Feh. Why did he care anyway? It was just Naruto. He didn't matter anyway.

The words were jumpy on the page. They wouldn't stay still, reflecting his own nature at the moment. He needed to get up, he needed to move.

He needed to stop thinking.

- - - - -- - - - -

The day was warm and sunny. Gaara snarled up at the sunshine, which shone down, mocking him in his gloom.  
White, fluffy clouds scudded across the perfect blue sky.

No matter what he did, Naruto didn't seem to want to be his friend. No matter what he said, Naruto was still Sasuke's bitch.

Oh well. One day, Naruto would awaken, and find that while he'd been off-guard, he'd been tamed and sold into bondage. And then, the blond would crave the freedom he could have had, if only he'd listened to Gaara.

Smoke curled up from his cigarette. He leaned back against the brick wall of the school and stared at the sky.

He never felt more free than when he looked skyward, toward the heavens, which weren't bound by any earthly want, or need, or anything earthly at all.

Shoes crunched over gravel. He glanced back down and found himself looking into blue eyes. Naruto gave him a pained smile and Gaara watched the way the bruised and marred skin crinkled up.

He glanced down, following the lacerated limb that was Naruto's arm, finding where it joined to another and followed that up and back to the pair of obsidian gems that glowered back at him dangerously. It was obvious Sasuke didn't want to be there, for more than one reason. Gaara nearly chuckled.

He glanced back at Naruto, who was still smiling in an overly sweet manner. "I just wanted to let you know what goes around, comes around," the blond said cheerily, then leaned forward and forcefully covered Gaara's mouth with his lips.

Sasuke looked away in disgust.

Naruto pulled back and smiled bitterly. "I've got it too," he said and Gaara, still shocked, didn't need an explanation to understand.

Without a further word, both Naruto and Sasuke were gone again.

"Shit," Gaara muttered, tossing his wasted cigarette to the ground.

The wind whisked by it, rolling it around a bit.

- - - - - - - - -

It had finally happened. Everyone had known it would, eventually. But as expected as it had been, it left no less shock and no less grief when it did happen.  
Sasuke couldn't bear to watch as the dirt cascaded into the hole, showering in on the coffin. It simply wasn't fair. It should have been him down there in that hole, not Naruto. Naruto should have been spared, at least for a little while longer.

It wasn't fair! He'd had it first, he should have died first!

He couldn't bear to see what a small and pitiful crowd had gathered there, to pay their final dues. Hinata, teary-eyed, had been standing to his left, trying very hard not to burst out in noisy tears. Sakura had been there, purely because she thought he needed to be comforted, or so he presumed, and she was holding onto his arm and occasionally dabbing at her eyes. Iruka had completely given up trying to be strong, and instead, was sobbing openly on Kakashi's shoulder. Kakashi merely looked on gravely, as if he were trying to be strong for Iruka.

Itachi and Orochimaru, who had since made up, were there was well, because they'd apparently considered Naruto "part of the family" as Itachi put it and Sasuke was sorely tempted to ask what family he was talking about.

Gaara was there, and Sasuke wasn't sure if it was because he wanted to torture him, or because he was sorry this whole goddamn mess was his fault.

The priest was the only other one there.

Sasuke turned away, not being able to bear another second of the funeral, in all its triteness, with the sky overhead heavy and threatening rain; with the wind whipping bitterly across the graveyard, howling between the headstones and whirling away the dead fall leaves like the souls of the departed.

He walked away. He knew it was rude, he knew it made him look cold, but that was how he felt inside; cold and dead. He didn't think he would ever warm up again and he probably didn't have very long to do so anyway.

He could only look forward to joining Naruto in the cold, November ground.

It started to rain, lightly at first, then the sky opened up and unleashed its icy tears in torrents. It was so cold it seemed to burn the flesh. The wind made his eyes water. He refused to believe that he could cry anymore.

He'd done enough crying, with Naruto tucked in his arms, trying to comfort the hysterical blond with gentle words and promises of a bright future, which he knew were hollow and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't believe them.

He went home, and went straight to bed. He locked the door, and shut the curtains, cutting himself off from the rest of the world and making his room as black as the night that had suddenly blanketed his life.  
He curled up on his bed, wrapping the sheets about himself, seeking comfort in their supposed warmth and protectiveness, but finding none.

Bitter and alone, refusing to let his lover go, he started to cry. The tears dribbled down his cheeks, and down the bridge of his nose, making his skin crawl with the cold and uncomfortable wetness.

He couldn't get warm. How had he kept warm all this time? Naruto had been warm, so very warm and the very epitome of life. And now, he was dead.

Why did it hurt so much to lose him? He knew he wasn't sick anymore, he knew he wasn't suffering. So why did he want to keep him by his side and torture him? He knew he was going to follow in the coming days, if not by sickness, then by his own accord, so why did he miss him so much?

He couldn't look at anything in this room without somehow being reminded of Naruto. And it hurt to be reminded of him, probably because the loss was too fresh to be dealt with.

He'd been too young to really understand the consequences of his parents' death when the accident had occurred, and by the time he was old enough to understand, it had been an old wound, with a healing scab on the top of it, so it didn't hurt quite so much.

This wound was fresh and he understood, which was like picking at it until it became infected and oozed with pus.

He rolled over and shut his eyes. And even then, Naruto hid behind his eyes and haunted him. He wanted to remember Naruto so badly, keep holding onto him, because he didn't want to forget him, but it also hurt because he knew that Naruto wouldn't grin back up at him, even when he remembered how that grin was supposed to be fixed on that face he loved so much.

It was a reaction to the pain. He couldn't take it. He'd always been weak like this. It had just taken real tragedy to make him realize it.

The poison left a bitter taste in his mouth and it burned him on the way down. It worked quickly, infiltrating his bloodstream, working its way through his whole body, shutting him down, inch by inch.

His breath became short and his vision became bleary. His head spun, in a funny dizzy way he'd never experience before, and knew he never would experience again. He lay down, feeling tired, so very goddamn tired. . .

His breath stopped.

His pulse stopped.

Everything stopped.

He was dead.

A key fumbled in the lock and the tumbler clicked. The door to Sasuke's room was slowly pushed open, light from the outside filtering in and. . .

- - - - - - - - - -


	14. Open Your Eyes

(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Just as a note, the story isn't over yet. If you're reading, please review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 14: Open Your Eyes

"Sasuke! Wake up!" somebody hissed in his ear, shaking him roughly. 

Drowsily, Sasuke opened an eye, then both eyes, watching the room in front of him spin and shake. "Wha?" he asked, his voice still marred with sleep.

Itachi sighed and rolled his eyes. He could always trust Sasuke to be deep in sleep, whilst having what must have been one of the most terrifying nightmares ever. "I could hear you screaming from downstairs," he muttered, glaring at the younger boy.

Sasuke merely sat up, yawning and rubbing his eyes. "What? Screaming? Why was I screaming?"

Itachi felt the urge to smack the sleep-stupefied boy. So he did. "I'd like to know why you were screaming too," he said, watching as Sasuke rubbed the back of his head, as if trying to make the sudden and sharp pain go away.

"That hurt," Sasuke said, glaring at his older sibling. He then proceeded to try and remember who and what he'd been dreaming about.

It had been a particularly pleasant dream. . .no, wait. That wasn't right. It'd been a terribly depressing dream. He racked his brain, trying to remember the dream, but whatever had happened inside his mind while he was sleeping eluded him.

"I don't know why I was screaming," he said at last, with a bit of a shrug.

Itachi sighed. "All right then. Next time, I'll just gag you and hope you choke to death."

Sasuke, who had turned over onto his side and prepared to go back to sleep, sat up bolt-right, the word 'death' ringing in his ears. "Death! Oh, shit! Where's Naruto?"

He leapt out of bed, grabbing Itachi by the forearms, clinging to him like a scared child. "Where's Naruto!" he demanded, feeling tears spring into his eyes.

Itachi peeled his little brother off him. "Get off me," he grumbled. "Naruto's -"

He realized he was talking to the air as Sasuke tore off, dashing down the stairs, yelling at the top of his lungs, like a wounded animal, "Naruto! Oh my gods, Naruto!"  
Itachi wondered what kind of drugs Sasuke was on. Confused beyond belief as to why his normally stoic little brother was acting. . .well, non-Sasuke-ish, he padded down the stairs, watching with interest as Sasuke fumbled with the telephone, so frantic was he.

Itachi wondered who Sasuke was calling at one a.m. He also wondered if Sasuke knew it was one a.m. Somehow, he was doubting it.

He knew he was eavesdropping, but oh, was it fun. He grinned and waited to hear Sasuke get blasted for waking whoever it was up at such an ungodly hour.

"Hello, Iruka? Yes, is - No, I didn't know that, but - what? No, I just want - No, nothing like that - I wanted to know if - No, will you stop asking me these questi - Is Naruto there!"

Itachi watched in great amusement as Sasuke screamed into the phone, tired of being lectured and cut off. There was silence for a moment or two, before Sasuke dropped the phone and sank down to his knees, looking utterly devastated.

The phone line had gone dead.

Itachi swept into the room, deciding that Sasuke looked a little too gone to be healthy. He crouched down beside his brother, then shook him, trying to get him to snap out of his daze. "Hey! Hey! What's wrong?"

Sasuke didn't even look at him. He just kept staring at some far away point on the wall, through the wall. "Naruto. . ," he started softly, then bit his lip hard and closed his eyes.

"Naruto what?" Itachi asked, almost impatiently. He didn't have time for his brother's dramatics. 

"Naruto. . .he's. . .he's in the hospital," Sasuke finished, choking back a sob and trying to dry his eyes before he could start crying.

He should have been relieved, he should have been thankful. Naruto wasn't dead. At least, he wasn't dead yet, and maybe, maybe he wasn't going to go that route and -

What would they do if they both lived?

What would happen in the future? Sasuke had previous plans. He was going to university, he was going to become something, and by going to university, he was going to move away. He going to go far away, and never come back.

What did Naruto have planned? Did Naruto have something specific he wanted to be? Was he going to go to schoolfor it, or could they go to the same school, or would Naruto just sort of follow him where ever he went, like some sort of dog?  
What happened if they went their separate ways? They wouldn't see each other, and how many times had he heard of relationships falling apart because of the distance between people?

He sighed and tried not to think about it. That was if and when they lived through this trauma and that was how he had to take it: one trauma at a time. It was no good worrying about something that might never happen.

- - - - - - - - - -

The darkness swirled about him, the wind howling in the background as its driving force. It whipped by him, its speed enough to knock him to the ground, and began to fall, and fall, and fall - 

There was no substance to the darkness, for it was merely shadow, and as quickly as it had come, it stopped moving and the wind fell silent. Then, it changed direction, sending him to tumble in reverse.

Which way was up, which way was down? Directions had no place here, it was merely the darkness and it seemed to swallow all logic and any sense. Any bearing he had was quickly wiped away by the whirling wind.

It coiled about him, like a snake, and squeezed, and squeezed, and squeezed, until he slipped inside its jaws, unable to breathe, unable to think, unable. But he really couldn't tell he was inside it, for the outside was just like in, because places were nothing here. He could only know he was inside it, rather than out, because of the mounting pressure, bearing down, forcing him to crawl along on his stomach, while the ground shoved up and he could feel himself breaking between the two forces of up and down.

And quite suddenly, it fell away and he was falling again, with the cold wind surging up to greet him, making tears freeze in his eyes. He hit something, something shapeless and black, and he passed right through, feeling only the burning sensation of pain it left in him afterwards. Again and again he seemed to smash through whatever it was, and he wondered if he was falling through it a million times over, or if there were hundreds of whatever they were, all lined up in a downward row.

It was getting warmer as he fell and he noticed bright, white dots, like phantom stars, decorating the sky. He dared not scream, for fear the darkness would eat him whole, or at least, somehow swallow his voice.

And, smack! He hit the ground, only to find himself on fire, not only with pain, but with actual leaping flames, which seared his skin back from his bone, pulling and pulling - burning, burning until nothing was left at all, and the blanched bone turned black, then to ash and he was watching his arm disintegrate. He felt the sick creep into his throat and crawl through his body. It reached his mouth and it evaporated instantly, so that when he did retch, nothing came, nothing at all, not even blood or saliva.

He screamed at that point, but his voice was so hoarse and he was so parched, that no sound except a strangled noise, like that of a dying chicken, escaped him. He sprawled out on the burning earth, unable to bear the pain. He closed his eyes. He could smell feathers burning, and he opened his eyes, and looked up from his resting place.

The dark angel stood there, grim and pale as ever. Even the raging inferno couldn't melt the glacier that he was. The white robe he was wearing was burning, burning black. His wings, spread wide, were seared away by the fire, but it was nothing compared to the cold fire burning in his eyes.

Burning! Gods, he was being incinerated under that gaze and he screamed again, but it wasn't a scream, not even a noise this time.

He was sick again, bile choking him up, and blood came with it, although he had no idea where he'd obtain the liquids.

He closed his eyes again. A bird was singing. He opened his eyes and looked blearily at the unfamiliar ceiling.

His head was throbbing. He felt sick. He felt weak. He was cold too, and the itchy blankets that were wrapped so closely about him weren't helping. To make matters even worse, the room was spinning before his aching eyes, intensifying the need to vomit.

He was going to be sick, he needed to be sick, so he was, and it was everywhere, but he was so terribly weak that he couldn't move away from the vile stuff, and instead, lay in it, the putrid stench infiltrating his nose and clinging to him, making him sick again. 

His hand felt like it was still on fire, though the inferno seemed to have been left behind and replaced by cooler air. The blood pounded through his veins, and he looked over at a very nervous person. He couldn't exactly make out who it was, merely because of his headache and the dizziness.

He could tell this person was talking to him, but could only make out a few words, making understanding anything near impossible.

". . .worry. . .nurse. . .soon," was what he heard this person say and he tried to identify the voice, only to find thinking made his head hurt worse. 

He closed his eyes and settled back against the pillow.

- - - - - - - - -

Sasuke shouldn't have been there, not at that time at least, because school was still in and he was technically skipping his class. But, when he got right down to the bottom of it, he felt that it was more important to be there than in school, learning nothing and worrying incessantly.

He'd been utterly horrified by the sight of Naruto, who was prone on that hospital bed, the I.V. fed into his arm; his skin nearly as white as the walls of the room.

He'd sat down in the uncomfortable chair beside the bed, which he presumed that Iruka had left there, feeling awkward and unsure about why he was even there because it was making him feel worse. He was nervous and he was worried and seeing Naruto, lively, loud Naruto, so pale and quiet perturbed him and forced unpleasant thoughts of death up into his mind.

After a while, he thought that maybe, he'd feel better if he had some contact with the other boy, so he held the blond's hand firmly between his own sweat-slick palms, trying to convince himself that this was for Naruto's benefit and not his own.

And when Naruto was awake for those few moments, he was relieved, but also so much more afraid. The blue eyes seemed so bleary and far-away, when he knew they should have been clear. When the blond threw up, he called the nurse, amazed that Naruto didn't have the sense, nor the strength, to move. While he was waiting for the nurse to come and remove the vile mess, or at least help him, he was holding Naruto's hand and dabbing the vomit off the boy's cheek with a tissue, trying to comfort him, trying to at least convince himself Naruto was okay.

He didn't think Naruto had even registered he was there, what he'd said.

- - - - - - - - -

It started in home room, with a whisper between two people, and then, those two people became four people, which multiplied and became six, and so on and so forth, until it was many, many people whispering amongst themselves.

A rumour was born, and from it, more rumours subsequently followed. At the base of this rumour, there was some truth, and then it was built upon by lies, and the truth and the falsehoods mingled and twisted to become one and you couldn't tell one from the other.

Some of the rumours were believable, while others weren't, and some were right down bizarre.

"Naruto's in the hospital. . ."

"Heard he's real sick.. . ." 

"He's got HIV or something, 'cause, you know, him and Sasuke. . ."

"I heard that Sasuke's got him knocked up. . ."

As the day progressed, the rumours became wilder and more far-fetched, until some were even saying things such as Sasuke was a vampire, or that Naruto had been abducted by aliens.

By the end of the day, Gaara was tired of hearing all the stupid rumours. He wanted to knock all of the whisperers' heads together and tell them what was really going on, just so they wouldn't spout absolute bullshit into their ranks.

But he didn't. First off, there was the fact that he had more respect for Naruto's privacy than that, and if they found out the truth, the stupid students would be more likely to alienate him more if and when the blond returned. Second, there was the fact he himself had given Sasuke the disease in the first place, who had, then consequently, passed it to Naruto. Gaara didn't want to be alienated by even the whores who hid amongst the student populace.

So, he stayed quiet, and rolled his eyes whenever he heard another gods-awful rumour being passed about the room. The worst part was, that, no matter how implausible the theory was, the students ate it up like candy.

Honestly, how on earth could they think that Sasuke was some sort of vampire? He obviously defied everything anybody had ever qualified to be "true" about the blood-sucking undead. Or how could they believe that just because Sasuke and Naruto had screwed each other once or twice, Naruto had mystically become impregnated, despite the fact he was a male?

The final bell had rung only a few moments ago, freeing him and the rest of the student body from the torturous prison they called school. Immediately, he started heading for the outdoors, where he could have a smoke, and wash away his frazzled nervousness at the idea of rumours about Naruto and Sasuke and the faint worry that this development might eventually be traced back to him.

He was almost at the door when he was confronted by a cloud of pink. He blinked stupidly, regaining himself from the stupor he'd fallen into. He glanced at the person obscuring his route. Green eyes glared at him, demanding something of him.

He recognized her then. Sakura Haruno was standing in front of him. He'd never really taken much notice of her before, but now, she was so intimidating, even with her small stature, simply by the amount of sheer determination she seemed to possess and the angry energy that seemed to radiate off her.

"What happened?" she demanded, her tone low and dangerous.

Gaara met her gaze, but said nothing.

"What happened?" she demanded again, her eyes narrowing, demanding an answer from him.

"Nothing," he muttered, pushing by her. 

Really, nothing had happened. Nothing that some nosey little brat needed to know about, anyway. If Naruto wanted to tell people, that was fine by him, but he'd leave it to Naruto to do. The last thing he wanted to do was get the word out when Naruto didn't want it out. If there was one thing he was good at, it was keeping his mouth shut.

She had followed him outside, and was trailing him, like some sort of pseudo-stalker. He ignored her and stopped, pulling a cigarette out of the package in his pocket, and his lighter out of the other pocket. He lit up.

She was still standing there, hands on hips, demanding to know what had happened, without even saying anything.

Gaara sighed, rolled his eyes and turned about, facing her. "Look," he growled, flicking ashes angrily to the ground. "Nothing happened, and even if something did, it's between Naruto and Sasuke, so I'm not at leave to tell you."

She smirked. "So, something did happen."

Gaara sighed. This was why he hated the female of this race. They were so strong-headed and annoying -

"Answer me this. Is Naruto in the hospital?"

Gaara exhaled, smoke billowing from his open mouth like he was some sort of fire-breathing dragon. "Yes," he sighed, after pausing a moment or two, seeming to contemplate his reply.

Sakura nodded, looking at the ground, as though in deep thought. "Thank you," she said softly, then turned abut abruptly and dashed back into the school building.

Gaara took another drag of his cigarette.

And then he pondered, and something that hadn't occurred to him before came crashing into his mind. He turned back to the door where the pink-haired girl had disappeared, wild-eyed.

'How did she know I would know?' 

- - - - - - - - - -

"So, it's true?"

"Yes." 

"Naruto's in the hospital?"

"Yes."  
"Why? What happened?"

"He wouldn't say."

Ino 'hmph'ed and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Jerk," she muttered. "Why wouldn't he?"

Sakura shrugged. "I suppose he sorta wanted to protect Naruto's privacy. Maybe." 

They walked in silence. Their shoes scuffed they pavement, and the wind played lightly in their hair. After a moment or two, and making sure that no one was looking, Ino slipped her hand into Sakura's, giving it a tight, reassuring squeeze.

"Should we go and see him?" Sakura asked, biting her lip in worry.

Ino looked thoughtful for a moment or two. "Yes, we should go see him," she replied at last. "He probably needs all the support he can get," she added, sounding a tad. . .foreboding.

They tightened their grip on each other's hand. "Do. . .you. . .do you think Sasuke will be. . ?" Sakura inquired, unsure as to whether or not she wanted to face her former crush at such a time.

Ino nodded. "He will be, if Naruto and him are. . ."

She waved her hand about, carelessly, as if she knew Sakura knew what she meant, but would rather not state it.

Sakura looked at the ground and kicked a pebble, remaining silent in thought. She looked up when she felt a tug on her arm, and gave Ino a glance as if to say 'what are you doing?'

Ino had stopped and she was smiling brightly, as if she had a brilliant idea. Sakura raised an eyebrow and was tempted to back away. Ino tugged on her arm. "We should go down to the shop," she said, indicating the flower shop her mother owned. "It's always nice to bring a gift to show compassion when someone's in the hospital."

Sakura still looked sceptical. Ino continued, quickly. "And besides, it will make you look like a caring person, and like you care about Naruto too. If Sasuke's there, that's bound to cheer him up, 'cause if you're Naruto's friend, you might as well be his too," she babbled, trying to explain her logic.

"Where we will get the money to cover flowers, Ino? I've barely got anything left my allowance," Sakura complained. "I so need a job."

Ino waved it off and grabbed Sakura by the upper arm. "Never mind! We'll put it on my mom's tab! She rarely uses it anyways."

Sakura was about to mention that there always seemed to be a fresh bouquet of flowers on the Yamanaka kitchen table, but thought better of it and let Ino drag her along down the street, toward the shop.

Sakura being dragged somewhere by Ino was not an unusual sight, as Sakura was usually reluctant to go anywhere, while Ino was terribly bossy and boisterous. The people they passed by barely gave them a second thought, for which Sakura was grateful.

The flower shop was about a fifteen minute walk from the school, and the two girls had to sprint to get there, Ino insisting the shop closed at five o'clock. 

When they arrived, huffing and puffing, the sign in the window clearly read, "Open daily 8:00 - 7:00." Sakura gave Ino a menacing glare as she followed the blonde into the shop.

It was a crowded little area with three rows of flowers bouquets, lining either side of the aisles. Bigger arrangements were in the corners of the shop, and along the back wall. There were shelves as well, which housed some smaller, potted plants, and vases and such.

The shop was deserted, except for the odd little old woman here and there. The cashier looked up from behind the counter, then smiled as she recognized her daughter and her friend. "Ino, Sakura! What are you two doing here?"

The two teenagers meandered to the counter. "Hi, Mom," Ino said, and Sakura gave the older woman a little wave in greeting.

"We actually stopped by to get an arrangement," Ino explained. "One of our friends is in the hospital."

Mrs. Yamanaka looked at her daughter gravely. "I'm sorry to hear that, Ino. How will you be paying for the flowers?"

Ino smiled nervously and her eyes darted about the room, belaying her uncertainty about asking her mother. "Well. . .er. . .I was hoping we could put it on your tab -"

"Ino!" 

" - and pay you back later! You can take it out of my allowance! And charge interest!" Ino cried, and her mother sighed. 

"All right then," the older woman relented. "Just make sure it's not too expensive."

"Right, Mom," Ino said, then dragged Sakura back to the flower bouquets.

Ten minutes later, they were on their way to hospital, with the biggest bouquet they had decided they could afford.  
Now, had it been July twenty-third, nobody would have given a second thought to Ino and Sakura carrying a huge bouquet of flowers down the street, as they had been known to give Sasuke flowers for his birthday, as he already seemed to have everything and want nothing. But, as it wasn't, everyone stared, bewildered, at the two girls as they strolled off in the direction of the hospital, suspending the bouquet between them. 

- - - - - - - -

Sasuke looked up as someone entered the room, expecting it to be the nurse. He looked back at Naruto, then at the newcomer again, noting this time, that two people had entered the room.

His eyes widened in surprise when he saw who the visitors were. Sakura and Ino both smiled warmly at him, then looked at Naruto.

"Is he awake?" Ino asked.

Sasuke shook his head. Sakura spoke up, her voice small and quiet. "How is he?"

Again, Sasuke shook his head and sighed. Sakura and Ino shared a glance. Ino took a step forward, presenting Sasuke with the bouquet. "We got these for him," she said.

Sasuke took the bouquet hesitantly, as if expecting some sort of trap. "Thank you," he mumbled, quite unsure of what to do.

There was a scuffing noise, and he realized the two girls were pulling up chairs. He groaned mentally, because that meant they intended to stay awhile.

They were silent for a long, long time, before Sakura asked, "What's wrong with him?"

Sasuke bit his lip, deciding whether or not to tell her. "I'd rather not say," he muttered, giving Sakura the impression it was some horrible, deadly disease.

"He'll get better, won't he?" she demanded.

Sasuke shrugged. "He might, he might not."

Sakura made a noise and ground her teeth. Sasuke looked down at his comatose partner dolefully.

They were silent for a while longer.

Sasuke was startled out of his thoughts, and jumped, when a warm hand was placed over his own. He looked up at Ino. Her eyes were full of concern. For a faltering second, he wondered if she still held that childish crush on him.   
"We're here for you," she said softly. "Both of you." 

He misunderstood her, and then saw that she was holding Sakura's hand in her own, almost painfully tight, and he realized what she meant.

He almost started laughing, despite the predicament. That was how ironic he found the situation. The two girls that had chased him the longest, and the most desperately, had fallen for each other.

He looked away from them, at the door, realizing that two more people had entered the room. Iruka smiled unsurely at him. "I see you found my chair," he commented, pulling up another one. Kakashi draped himself over the back of the chair.

Silence reigned for a little while longer, until the familiar sound of shoes meeting the floor tiles echoed in their ears and they all looked up. Sasuke's eyes narrowed dangerously at the newcomer, who ignored him and entered the room without a word. 

Gaara felt he had as much right to visit Naruto as everyone else in the room. Screw what Sasuke thought of him.

The silence continued, each occupant of the room no longer sure of what to say.

As time passed, a few more people joined the little ensemble, including Hinata. It was only when Shikamaru entered the room, glaring sharply at Ino, that the little group began to come back to reality and think about things like time.

"Ino, I hope you know how troublesome this is. Your mother sent me here because you're late for dinner," Shikamaru grumbled.

Ino glanced at the clock, noting it was well after six o'clock. "Oh, crap," she muttered, hastily getting up out of her chair. 

Shikamaru 'hmph'ed and crossed his arms in annoyance. Ino rolled her eyes. "Calm down, pineapple-head! Jeez!"

She stalked out of the room, Shikamaru hot on her heels. Hinata shuffled her feet on the floor. "I-I guess I should be going too," she near-whispered, then turned to leave the room.

She paused at the doorframe, however, then turned back, her face having turned dangerously red. "H-here!" she stammered, handing something off to a bewildered Sasuke. "I-it's for N-naruto!"

And with that, she dashed out of the room. They all stared after her for a moment, before Kakashi inquired, "What did she give you?"   
Sasuke glanced down at what he was holding in his hand. It was a little teddy bear, with a felt card held between its paws that read, "Get well soon." Sasuke was hard pressed not to start crying. 

Sakura mumbled something about dinner, and got up to leave. Gaara said nothing, but exited the room, right behind the pink-haired girl. Sasuke watched Gaara go, somewhat suspicious. He glanced up, seeing Iruka and Kakashi were the only others left in the room, besides himself.

Iruka caught his gaze and smiled benevolently, letting him know it was okay to break down now, if he felt he needed to. He didn't, but hugged his knees to his chest, wishing that maybe Naruto would just wake up. . .

- - - - - - - -

Itachi unlocked the front door, peering about inside, checking for signs of both his little brother, who had been skipping fourth, or so he was told, and for his "ex".

Seeing that all was clear, he ventured into the house, locking the door behind him swiftly. He made a scope of the living room from the foyer, then ventured into the room, checking the kitchen from that vantage point. 

Nothing.

While some might have been relieved by that, Itachi was not. He didn't believe that 'no news was good news', because he was almost certain his ex would turn up in his house, sooner or later. It was just a matter of time.

He ventured upstairs, still peering about corners and down hallways, and such, feeling much like an intruder in his own home.

He opened the door to Sasuke's room, and, upon finding it empty, kept moving. He checked the bathroom, and the hall closet, but passed by the room on the left, which had been locked ever since his parents' death.

He opened the door to his room.

"Surprise, surprise," he mumbled, glaring at Orochimaru, who was sprawled out on his bed in all his (not-so-much) glory, cigarette in his mouth.

"What are you doing in my room?" he asked, his expression deadpan. He wasn't about to give the older boy the satisfaction of a reaction. 

Orochimaru, as predicted, pouted. "Really, darling," he drawled. "I would have thought you'd understand the phrase 'kiss and make up'."  
Itachi sighed and rolled his eyes. "Get out of my room."

"Mmm. . .no," the older boy replied cheerfully.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes." 

"Nu-uhn!"

"Get out of my room, you freak!" 

"Never!"

At that point, Orochimaru decided he needed to stand up to prove his point, and the sheets that had been wrapped about him decided not to follow.

Itachi screamed bloody murder and dashed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Orochimaru raised a eyebrow, then shrugged. "I win!" he declared, loud enough for Itachi to hear him.

"Pervert!" he heard the younger call back.

In the hall, Itachi had a hand over his eyes and was forcing the door to stay shut with all his might. Yes, it seemed that things were on their way back to normal for he and Orochimaru.

- - - - - - - - -


	15. Blue Sky, Blue Sky

(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! If you're reading, please remember to review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters. New warning: Incest! Beware.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 15: Blue Sky, Blue Sky

Shikamaru threw a glance back at Ino, who was running to catch up with him. It wasn't as though he was walking very fast; he was moving at a more leisurely speed. He stopped, and conjuring his most "annoyed" face, called, "Hurry up, slow-poke!"

Ino frowned and sped up, then slowed off as she passed him, dropping her pace back to a graceful walk. "I wouldn't be talking about being slow if I were you, pineapple-head."

She stuck her nose into the air. Shikamaru rolled his eyes. "Do you know how bothersome it was to go and fetch you?"

Ino sighed. "Is that all you ever do? Complain about how 'bothersome' everything is? Do you know how 'bothersome' it is hearing you complain about how bothersome everything is?"

She tossed him a triumphant smile, knowing she'd insulted him worse than he had insulted her. He frowned and looked away, jamming his hands into his pockets bad-temperedly.

- - - - - - - - -

It was dark when Sasuke woke. He was sitting in the chair, his neck was stiff and his behind had gone rather numb. He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep. In his right hand, he was holding the stuffed bear Hinata had "given" to Naruto. 

Naruto was still asleep, though he seemed a little more content in his slumber than he had in the afternoon. The moonlight creeping through the window had crept its way over the blond's prone form, making his hair so pale it seemed to almost glow.

He sighed audibly, and in doing so, became aware that he wasn't the only conscious being in the room. He looked across the bed at Iruka, who offered him a frail smile, which evaporated completely as he looked down at the sick boy.

Sasuke studied the teacher for a moment, taking in the way his dark eyes seemed to dance and glitter with tears in the moonlight. The emotional anguish was easily read, as was the worry and guilt present. Iruka, like Naruto, seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve, and his eyes betrayed him.

Sasuke looked away from the teacher, aware that he'd been staring. He looked back down at the sleeping form in the bed.  
Naruto sighed and stirred a bit, turning over, muttering something about ramen under his breath. Iruka laughed shakily and put his hand on Naruto's head, ruffling his hair fondly. "That's my boy," he said, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes, looking strangely relieved.

From his vantage point, Sasuke almost thought it looked like Naruto was smiling.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"Well, this is certainly an interesting development."

". . ." 

"Oh, don't be like that."

"You're annoying."

Orochimaru sighed and rolled his eyes in an exasperated manner. Leave it to Itachi to spoil what he would dub an "intimate" moment.

Currently, they were tangled up in each other after suffering from a nasty fall down the stairs. Of course, that had partially been his fault, but if Itachi wouldn't have tried to run away, he wouldn't have had to tackle him.

" . . .Your elbow is in my eye," Itachi said blandly.

Orochimaru smirked. "I'd rather put my elbow other places," he said. 

Itachi said nothing, unsure of what to think of the supposed fact Orochimaru apparently wanted to impale him on his elbow, of all things.

Instead, the younger male tried to get out of his predicament, only to find he was making it worse.

Orochimaru's elbow was no longer in his eye, but he wasn't sure if its new position was any better. The older boy smirked at him and slowly started moving, just to goad Itachi into taking the course of action that he wanted him to take.

He loved manipulating people. 

Itachi made a small noise in the back of his throat, then narrowed his eyes and glared. "Not here," he hissed, placing his hands on Orochimaru's shoulders, digging his fingers into the bone and flesh there.

Orochimaru tried not to wince, but Itachi tightened his grip even more and attempted to stand up, using his boyfriend as a lever. Unfortunately, that backfired, as the stairs were narrow, and Orochimaru wasn't expecting the change of position.

They toppled down the stairs.

As luck would have it, Orochimaru landed on top of his luckless lover, and, recovering as fast as he could, pinned him to the ground. "How about here?" he asked.

Itachi looked slightly dazed. Orochimaru half suspected he'd hit his head on the floor, especially when he gave him a shaky half smile and nodded. "Sure. The living room floor is a great place to have sex," he commented dryly.

Orochimaru sighed in an over-exaggerated way. "Must you always be so sarcastic?"

"Yes," the other replied, a little smugly.

Orochimaru frowned. "You're being dreadfully annoying in this matter," he commented.

Itachi merely shrugged, extracted himself from the other's grip and stood up. "I like to be annoying," he said, sticking his tongue out in an almost childish manner.

Orochimaru raised his eyebrow. "Is that an invite?"

"No," Itachi said quickly, deciding it might be a good idea if he could go and barricade himself in his room.

Unfortunately, somebody seemed to think it would be terribly funny to see him raped on his living room floor, and he tripped over something. What, he wasn't exactly sure. All he knew was that carpet tasted disgusting, probably because it hadn't been cleaned since gods-knew-when.

Orochimaru looked at Itachi, blinking stupidly, amazed that his boyfriend could be so incredibly clumsy. He then turned his attention to the culprit of the tripping. A magazine had been knocked off the shelf by the stairs when they fell, he supposed. But never, ever would he have expected Itachi to have a copy of Cosmo, anywhere, in his house.

"Itachi. . .is there something you're not telling me?" he asked, remaining completely deadpan.

"What?" the other boy asked, sitting up, then picking up the magazine. He took one look at the title and threw it away as if it burned. "How the hell did that get in here!"

"I think you know," Orochimaru said, giving Itachi a fixed look.

"It's not mine," the younger grumbled, clambering to his feet. "It must be Sasuke's."

"I dunno...You're the more feminine one."  
"What?"

Itachi stalked across the room and glared up at the taller boy. "I bet it's yours and you put it there, just to make me trip so you could rape me on the floor!"

Orochimaru looked appalled, then sighed. "How many times must I tell you, you cannot rape the willing?"

"Ah-ha! You're changing the subject! It must be yours!" Itachi cheered, smirking.

"It is not mine! I don't read that trash!"

"Well, neither do I!"

"So, it's not mine!"

"And it's not mine!"

"So it must be. . ."

"Sasuke's," they said in perfect unison, which was kind of creepy, as they stared blankly at the magazine on the floor.

"Let's go put it in his room." 

"And leave it open to the page with the half-naked guy on it."

"And then we'll watch him nosebleed until he dies of blood loss."

They looked at each other and grinned wickedly. Orochimaru picked up the magazine then chased Itachi up the stairs.

"We should write something on it."

"Like what? Besides, then he would know it was us," Itachi said, rolling his eyes. Honestly, Orochimaru had the stupidest ideas.

"I dunno. . .something perfectly innocent that can be taken in a completely dirty and scandalous context."

Itachi made a face. "That still doesn't answer my question! I'll ask it again: _like what_?"

Orochimaru flicked Itachi. "I'll think of something."  
"I'm sure you will."

"Hey, do you think your brother has any porn in here?"

"If he does, it was mine first and he stole it. Now, focus on the stupid task and stop getting distracted."

"Do you think he would keep that kind of stuff under his bed?"

Itachi sighed in exasperation. "No. Not likely."

Orochimaru was down on his knees, pulling junk out from under the bed. "Ha! Shows how much you know! Holy shit. . ."

He blinked at the sheer volume of porn accumulated in that space. "Dude. . .your brother's like. . .chronic masturbator or something."

Itachi blinked. "Those. . .aren't mine, either. That's. . .all his."

"Sick. Just sick. I mean, you and I don't have this much porn between us." 

"Eh. . .I guess. . .I mean, he has to get off somehow, right?"

"Yeah, but like. . ."

"Oh, shut up, put it back, we'll pretend we never saw it and leave."

"Sounds like a plan," Orochimaru muttered, stuffing whatever he had removed of the "stash" back under the bed.

Itachi had already exited the room, taking the reason why they had gone in Sasuke's room in the first place with him, completely forgetting that he had taken it away from his boyfriend after the 'do you think he has any porn in here' comment.

He looked down at the thing in his hand and before he could throw it away, the title had caught his attention. "What your guy really wants. . .have hotter sex now. . ."

He snorted and turned to the specified page, just to see what bullshit women made up about men and what they wanted in the sack.

"I knew it was yours," an accusing voice said behind him.

He narrowed his eyes and deftly, threw the magazine over his shoulder, hoping it would hit Orochimaru in the face.  
- - - - - - - - - -

Sasuke sighed. He hated city buses, even if they were empty. The street lamps flickered by, illuminating the bus for a mere second, then rolling on by.

He sat at the back of the bus, putting as much space between him and the driver as he could. He really doubted the driver liked him much. After all, if he hadn't of got on the bus, said driver could have gone and parked the bus and been half-way home by now.

He would have been perfectly content to sit in the hospital, which reeked of sterile, waiting for Naruto to wake up, all night, and all of tomorrow and the next day and the next day, if he had to. But Iruka insisted that he needed to go home and get some sleep, and be ready for school tomorrow.

How could he sleep when he was going to be up all night worrying? He'd barely been able to get out of the hospital, without turning around and running back. He had more self-control than that, and he cursed himself for it. How could he go to school tomorrow and spend all day sitting in a hot, sticky classroom, worrying, and blanking out?

So, here he was, on the last bus of the night, going home, his thoughts, his mind and his heart still in that stupid hospital room, at stupid Naruto's stupid bedside. Some boyfriend he was: going home to catch up on his sleep while Naruto was sick and helpless.

Why did he feel so goddamn guilty? The idiot wasn't going to wake up soon, if at all, and if he did, Iruka was still there, and probably would be 'til the end of time. Maybe it was that he wanted to be the one Naruto saw when he woke up, and maybe it was selfish of him, but he wanted to be there to relieve all the worry he felt brewing inside.

Stupid Naruto, stupid Gaara, stupid him! It was all stupid Gaara's fault in the first place, but if he. . .if he. . .

Goddamn it, if Naruto hadn't pissed him off!

That wasn't a good excuse. Being pissed off was not a good reason to have sex with the one you loved.

Did he love Naruto?

He wasn't sure.

He sighed and kept his gaze fixed on the outside world, rolling by him at sixty kilometres an hour. He read the street signs, waiting for the stop closest to his house to turn up.

As it ended up, he got off a few blocks early, because he could feel the hostility just emanating from the driver. He walked the rest of the way home, his thoughts slowing his feet and making him feel heavy.

He unlocked the front door and walked in, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his jacket. He shut the door, shutting out the night, but not his grief. The house was silent, except for the occasional 'thump' from upstairs and the occasional giggle.

He frowned and sighed. Just what he wanted to deal with: his brother and his boyfriend fucking each other's brains out all night long. While it was nice to see that they reconciled, he wished they could express it in a different way.

He padded upstairs, tired, but knowing he wasn't going to sleep. He had too much on his mind, even if his sibling wasn't being loud. Sometimes, he wished Itachi would just drop off the face of the earth.

Screwing up his courage, because this was probably going to scar him for the rest of his life), he opened the door to his brother's bedroom, without knocking first.

He cleared his throat and both Itachi and Orochimaru looked at him, from the precarious position they'd assumed sometime earlier. "Could you please keep it down? I'm going to go to bed."

He was amazed he kept his face completely expressionless. Itachi and Orochimaru looked at each other and smirked. Itachi looked back at his younger brother, wicked smirk still in place. Sasuke felt very, very threatened.

"Oh, yes, you're going to go to bed. Come here and we'll make sure you're nice and comfy."

Sasuke would have beat a hasty retreat, but he'd been so preoccupied with what his brother was saying, and suggesting, that he hadn't noticed that Orochimaru had been moving about and was now standing right beside him.

The younger boy could only stare in bewilderment as the older boy fitted a collar about his neck, complete with leash. Orochimaru grinned slyly at him and shut the door. Sasuke wanted to scream.

Stupefied, he let Orochimaru lead him over to the bed, where Itachi had sat up and was waiting for him, his smirk still evident, but softer now, and almost comforting. Sasuke was startled when he suddenly realized the striking likeness between his brother and his mother.

He barely registered what he was doing. Itachi's arms were around him, and he was leaning back against his brother's bare chest. He sighed and closed his eyes.

"You're tense," Itachi murmured against his ear and Sasuke felt fingers caressing his back and neck and shoulders.  
He relaxed into that touch, only to find that cold fingers were touching him from the front. He opened his eyes and looked at Orochimaru, who met his gaze with his golden one and smiled. He felt scared again, fear surging up at the promises the oldest boy's eyes held. He pushed back against his brother, as if trying to escape the colder set of fingers. "Itachi," he murmured.

"Sh," the older Uchiha whispered.

Sasuke squirmed a bit. "Itachi," he said, trying to sound a little more demanding, but only came off as more desperate.

"What do you want?" Itachi purred, for once not sounding exasperated in asking that question.

His hands snaked down and met briefly with his boyfriend's, before travelling further down, Orochimaru's hands travelling in the opposite direction.

Itachi wrapped his hand about Sasuke's cloth-covered discomfort and looked at his little brother's face, his smile turning back to a smirk in the blink of an eye. "Is this what you want, little brother?"

He started to move his hand up and down that length, making sure Sasuke was enjoying what he was doing. He was going to stop at the first sign of discomfort from his brother. Instead, Sasuke rocked his hips a bit, and let his head fall back. With his free hand, Itachi brushed the black bangs out of his brother's eyes. Sasuke's eyes were barely open, his long lashes clutching at his stained cheeks. Itachi smirked when he saw the boy's gaze was downcast. He was watching him.

He sped up his motions, Sasuke rewarding him with a small, strangled cry. Mentally, he cursed his brother's practised control, because he knew Sasuke was fighting him, fighting the sensations, even unintentionally.

Sasuke cried out again, and Itachi looked to Orochimaru, who he'd temporarily forgotten about. His lover had one of his hands tangled in Sasuke's hair, running up and down the column of the boy's neck. The other hand was treating one of his baby brother's pert nipples, and he smirked against the other one.

Itachi smirked back, speeding up his motions. Sasuke cried out yet again, and thrust his hips forward.

Sasuke, meanwhile, was fighting to keep himself under control. His spinning mind was screaming at him, but its warning was jumbled by the screaming jolts of pleasure his body was using to overthrow him. 

This was wrong! Oh, gods, this was wrong! It was incest, and he felt as if he was invading the bond his brother and Orochimaru shared, not to mention violating the one he held with Naruto, who had been all but blocked from his mind when he should have been worrying himself sick!  
Still, it felt good.

Argh! Stupid body, damn it to hell! He closed his eyes and groaned, Itachi's hand tightening about him, moving faster and torturing him with bliss. Orochimaru's mouth was pressed against one of his nipples. He couldn't tell left from right at the current moment and couldn't be bothered to figure it out. And the older boy was. . .sucking on the flesh, and to use an over-used simile, like a baby suckled on its mother.

For Konoha's sake, this was screwing up his head. 

Screwing, heh. The irony was that, he would, in all likelihood, be getting screwed.

'Stop it, stop it, stop it!' he screamed at himself, unaware he was screaming it out loud too.

The torture stopped. He whimpered and opened his eyes, wondering if this was their idea of a joke.

Itachi was looking at him concernedly. "Is something wrong?"

He whined and squirmed in reply. Damn right, something was wrong! This whole fiasco was wrong! It was incest! It was. . .weird. . .

It was making his shorts too tight. Orochimaru snickered and reached forward, unfastening the squirming teen's pants, and tugged them down a bit, followed quickly by his underwear, and allowed the source of the boy's discomfort to be exposed.

Sasuke panted lightly, feeling the cool air caressing him. Orochimaru smiled at him appreciatively, and Itachi purred in his ear, "Pretty all over, aren't you?"

Hands caressed his abdomen, and then, lower. Someone, he wasn't sure which one, pressed their lips to his, hungrily demanding access to his mouth, and getting it without much of a struggle, while the other gave his nether regions a squeeze that sent him over the edge.

Orochimaru and Itachi shared a look that said they were amused at how easily the boy was finished off. Sasuke lay in Itachi's arms, dazed, breathing hard.

Itachi kissed the boy's forehead. "Do you feel better now?" he asked, as gently as he could.

Sasuke nodded, clinging to him just a little tighter.

Orochimaru slithered up beside his boyfriend, holding Sasuke from the other side, stroking the boy's hair. Itachi glanced over at him and they shared a satisfied glance. Orochimaru knew that Itachi had wanted to do this for some time. Actually, he'd wanted to do more, but with the risks Sasuke posed currently, this was more than enough, for all three of them.  
Sasuke dozed off eventually, his body being too exhausted to listen to his mind, which was now on worry overdrive. Orochimaru smirked at Itachi, who was lovingly caressing his little brother's face. "So, was he good?" 

Itachi nodded. "He's going to be such a good fuck." 

Orochimaru wagged a finger. "Gotta get your shots first," he taunted and Itachi grimaced.

"Gods, if I ever see that stupid fuck again, I'll. . ."

"Kill him, yes, yes, I know. I've heard you're heroic speech before, thank you." 

Itachi glared at him and he just smirked. The younger boy reached over his brother and smacked his boyfriend. "You've got no respect for family ties."

Orochimaru rolled his eyes. "Been there, done that, and figured out that they suck."

Itachi snorted. "You're just selfish."

"You're just getting something back," Orochimaru commented dryly.

Itachi said nothing and looked down at his sleeping brother.

"Hey," Orochimaru said after a moment or two, "you're brother's got a nice ass."

Itachi glared at his boyfriend, who was now rubbing against his brother's backside. Orochimaru smirked. "Good to see it runs in the family."

Itachi sighed and rolled his eyes. "Shut up and go to sleep."

"I love you too." 

"Goodnight, Orochimaru," Itachi growled, settling himself down to sleep.

"Goodnight, honey."

Itachi swore he'd murder Orochimaru one day.

- - - - - - - - - -

She sat in the dark, waiting for the yelling and the screaming to stop. She waited for the silence to make her bold enough to venture outside her doorway.

But the silence never really did. She wasn't sure, but sometimes, it seemed like the silence was worse than all the yelling and the screaming. The silence made her wonder if they'd killed each other.

The night wore on and she sat on her bed, not crying, but not smiling either.

She wondered about a lot of things now. Now was her time to sit back and reflect, to see what she had done well and what she could have done better. It was her time to re-evaluate her life and her ambitions.

What of her and Ino? What were they exactly? Were they, dare she say it, girlfriends? Or were they merely best friends who occasionally kissed and held hands? Was she a lesbian? Did she like girls, did she like boys? Did she like both?

She really didn't know, at some points, she really didn't care. What did it matter who she liked, as long as she liked them and they liked her back and she was happy? What did it matter as long as it meant she could eventually get out of this hell-hole and away from the yelling and screaming?

Speaking of which. . .

The din had stopped, and it had been quiet for a quite a while. Cautiously, she peered out of her doorway, half of her scared of what she might find, half of her hoping they'd killed each other.

A photo on the wall had been torn off and thrown, it's smashed frame littering the hallway with shards of glass that glittered like tears in the moonlight. She was tempted to pick one up, even though she knew they were sharp.

The picture inside was all torn up, and somebody had taken a pin or a tack and scratched out all of the people's faces. She knew that it had been a picture of them - of herself and her parents, when she was small and when they were happy. When they were family.

The picture so represented them now. It was almost ironic, that a picture could reflect such turbulent times, even when it had been taken so many years ago, that it seemed like eons had passed to her.

It represented that they had fallen to pieces, just like its frame and that they no longer recognized themselves. And rather suddenly, she realized that something had changed in the household, that it was quieter than normal. She padded downstairs to investigate.

The good set of china had finally become victim to the violence, and it lay shattered and smashed all over the floor in the downstairs.

It seemed as if the house had breathed a sigh of relief, as if a storm had passed.

Her father was gone.  
There was no sign to tell her this, to assure her guess, but somehow, she just knew.

It was like the rain cloud had passed, leaving nothing but sunny skies. 

Her father was gone.

Whether or not he'd be back, she didn't know, but somewhere in her heart, she doubted it. He was gone, oh, oh, he was gone!

The dragon had been slain and the prince could finally come to rescue the princess from the tower.

Or would it be the princess that came to her rescue?

- - - - - - - - -

The blue sky was reflected in the window, as the curtains were drawn and the first bright lights filtered in. 

Someone peered through the window, wondering at the white walls that surrounded the room and enclosed the window. If he strained his ears, he could hear the humming and buzzing of the machines in the patient's arm.

It was as if he could feel the itchy blanket and the lumpy pillow.

Then something dawned on him. He was on the wrong side of that window. He was the patient. 

The shades were lowered over the window for a second, and he sat up, the windows that were his eyes wide, wild and blue like the sky.

Naruto nearly screamed.

He hated hospitals, hated them, and hated them then some, because it was nothing but a place full of misery for him. The white-washed walls reminded him of the infirmary in the orphanage, and that, in turn, reminded him of his mother walking away from him.

He'd always been the most destructive of all the children.

He had no respect for anything, not even himself.

It got to the point that the nurses and teachers and volunteers weren't allowed to give him anything more than foam or stuffed animals to play with. A shard of frigid plastic shattered and had found itself embedded in his arm; wood created slivers; anything metal was absolutely out of the question.  
Naruto liked to be in physical pain, rather than emotional anguish.

He didn't want to count the number of times he'd nearly bled to death.

He really wouldn't have cared if he did.

Nobody else would have.

He glanced to his left and found the room vacant. Sighing, he shifted, and pulled his knees up to his chest, feeling a little sick, a little dizzy and a little queasy.

Nobody was there, just like always. Whenever he needed something, he was brushed off like a fly. Stupid, stupid fly, always attracted to the light, only to burn to death or be swatted away in annoyance.

Insignificant.

Did anybody really care that he was in here, dying? He knew he was, it was something he could feel in his marrow and it scared him. For once, he didn't really want to die, and now, he was probably on his deathbed.

He'd been to death's door innumerable times, and each time, he'd been sent back, even though he really didn't want to. Now that he didn't want to go, death would take him in, and shield him in its blackest robes.

Ah, irony at its greatest.

He glanced around a bit and found that someone had at least been by. Two chairs were placed by the bed, though he knew the seats were cold by now.

There was a vase of colourful flowers sitting on the bedside table, and beside them, a little stuffed teddy bear. Naruto wondered vaguely who'd brought them. He would have said Iruka, but, though unlikely, Sasuke could have been feeling particularly guilty and/or sappy. Naruto grinned when he thought of what he could make Sasuke do if he was on a guilt trip. 

"Sasuke, get me a glass of water."

"Sasuke, I feel faint. Carry me."

"Sasuke, massage me. And while you're at it, get me breakfast."

"Sasuke, lick my feet."

He was so busy practising the whining tone he'd use to make Sasuke his bitch, that he didn't hear the clatter of footsteps in the hall. Of course, Lady Luck decided to be a bitch and Sasuke arrived just in time to hear the last thing Naruto said. 

Sasuke just stared at the blond, and he stared back. Then, Naruto blushed, and laughed nervously. "Uh. . .heh! Hi, Sasuke! Uhm. . .heh heh. . .you didn't hear that, did you? 'Cause, yanno, I was just joking, and. . ."

Sasuke glared. "I see you're feeling better," he said icily.

Naruto sighed. Well, if he'd been hoping to keep Sasuke whipped for the next couple of weeks, the idea had just committed suicide by jumping out the window. 

Sasuke sat down in one of the chairs, still glaring.

Naruto stuck out his tongue. "The least you could do would be to ask how I'm feeling. I mean, I am sick and dying."

He tried to look pathetic, and lay back, pushing his forearm against his forehead, as if to look faint.

Sasuke snorted. "Drama queen."

Naruto grumbled and sat up again. "What time is it?"

"It's quarter after ten, Thursday December first." 

"Oh. Shouldn't you be at school?"

"Shouldn't you?"

Naruto stuck his tongue out again. "Who brought the flowers?"

"Ino and Sakura."

Naruto looked surprised. "Really?"

Sasuke nodded. "They. . .uh. . .had some things to tell me."

Naruto rolled his eyes. "Stupid girls! Don't they know when to give up? Don't they know you're mine?"

He grinned and Sasuke slapped him on the forehead. "No, things as in. . .they're. . .uhm. . .more than friends."

Naruto blinked, then smiled. "Oh, like best friends! Everybody knows that!"  
Sasuke sighed and shook his head. Oh, Naruto, Naruto, Naruto, when will thy stupidity cease to amaze people?

"No, you dumbass, they're together. . .like us."

Naruto blinked. "Oh. Oh, oh, oh! Wow. Sakura. . .who would have thought? Ino, I can see, 'cause she's a bitch and ya know. . ."

Sasuke rolled his eyes and did his best to look bored as Naruto rambled on and on and on.

"And who brought the bear?"

Sasuke perked up, hearing that a question was being asked of him. "Huh? Oh, Hinata brought that for you. You were sleeping though, so she left it there for you."

Naruto smiled warmly. "Hinata? Wow, that's so sweet of her! Who else came to see me? Huh? Tell me, tell me!"

Yes, Naruto was definitely feeling better.

All's well that ends well, or so it seemed.

But no matter how hyper-active Naruto was, nor how many questions he asked could soothe the sense of foreboding that was creeping over both of them.

- - - - - - - - - -


	16. Weekend From Hell

(Author's Note: Thanks for over 35 reviews! If you're reading, please remember to review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters. This chapter contains a sort of side-story that was originally written due to the response of the readers about the idea of Sasuke hoarding pornography under his bed. The end of the chapter says "end side story". Please note that this is not the end of "And the Beat Goes On"!)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 16: Weekend From Hell

"So, let's put this all behind us and get on with our lives."

It sounded like a very easy principle. It sounded like something truly obtainable. But in the end, the road to that goal was ridden with every possibly blockade and probably a bridge or two that was bound to give out as you crossed it.

So was the case in this scenario.

Naruto was home, finally, after a week of complaining to the nurses, complaining to Sasuke, complaining to Iruka and just about everyone else who dared set foot inside his room.

And so, it was the time for new beginnings.

"Your cousin's coming down for the weekend, Naruto," Iruka had said to him, a fake, tense smile on his face, indicating he needed Naruto to do something.

The blond had looked up at him, blinked several times, and said, "I have a cousin?"

Iruka made a face and said, "When I say your cousin, I mean my nephew, and so, your adoptive cousin!"

Naruto frowned, then said, "Oh."

And so, here was Konohamaru, the most annoying eight-year-old ever to walk the face of the Earth, standing on his doorstep on a Friday afternoon. And not just any Friday afternoon. It was, in fact, the Friday afternoon that Sasuke had planned on coming to see him, and there was, in the invitation, hope of a sexual reconciliation.

Of course, that hope and just been flushed down the drain by said "cousin" of Naruto's.

Naruto sighed and opened the door, letting the annoying brat walk in. Konohamaru glared up at him and pointed out the door. "There's my stuff! You'd better bring it in, or I'm gonna tell Uncle Iruka!"

Naruto rolled his eyes and walked out the door, then stared in disbelief at Konohamaru's luggage. Iruka had said that the little twerp was only spending the weekend; but from the sheer volume of stuff he'd brought along, it looked like he'd be staying there forever.

"Be careful with that! If you break anything, you're buying me a new one!"  
Naruto grunted in reply and tried to lift up one of the duffel bags. It felt like there were bricks of lead inside. And wouldn't luck have it that the stupid doctor had told him not to do any heavy lifting?

"Stupid brat," he muttered, straining to pick the stupid bag up.

He paused when he heard footsteps on the walk and looked up to see Sasuke walking toward him, looking at him curiously. "Dobe, what are you doing?"

Naruto let go of Konohamaru's luggage and flopped down, deflating with a huge sigh. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful.

Konohamaru the brat was here, and he had to take his stuff inside. Iruka was no where to be found, saying something about having to stay late at school and finish marking tests. From the amount of giggling there had been during that phone call, Naruto suspected Iruka and one Hatake Kakashi were having hot, kinky sex in the janitor's closet. Not that he wanted to think about that.

And of course, Sasuke was here now. Which was good, because Sasuke could help him take all this shit inside, but bad because he knew Sasuke had been hoping for some form of reconciliation not appropriate for children's eyes. Of course, he hadn't been able to tell Sasuke that there was to be no sex, and thus, no point of coming over, because he'd been home all day, on doctor's orders.

Why did doctors have to fuck up his life so much?

"You shouldn't be lifting anything, and you know that," Sasuke said, sounding more cross than chiding.

Naruto muttered something under his breath. Sasuke hefted up one of the bags and threw it over his shoulder, walking into the house using the screen door. "Why do you have all this stuff anyway? Are you planning to move away?"

It was then that something kicked the dark-haired boy in the shin. Hard. Sasuke dropped the luggage he'd been carrying and rubbed his shin, finding that the skin had already bruise. "What the hell was that!" he cried, looking frantically about the room.

A little brown-haired kid pointed an accusing finger at him. "Uncle Iruka told me about you! He said you do bad things and you're not allowed in the house!"

Sasuke blinked and looked back at Naruto, who looked slightly incredulous. "Who is that?" he asked, slightly bewildered.

If Naruto answered, he never heard him because the kid kicked him in the shin again, screaming, "And be careful with my stuff!"

Sasuke glared murder. "Why you little -"

He growled, then took off after the child, who was screaming bloody murder as he careened through the house.

Naruto winced when he heard a lamp break and got up, walking inside. Sasuke had Konohamaru pinned to the floor, ready to give the insolent brat the beating of his life. Naruto would have dearly liked to see that, but Iruka would have his head on a silver platter and his aunt would make sure he never walked again.

Besides, Konohamaru was screaming "Rape! Rape!" at the top of his lungs.

Naruto peeled his murderous boyfriend off of his cousin, smiling nervously. "Now, now, let's try to get along -"

"I'm calling the cops!" Konohamaru screeched. "He tried to rape me!"

"I was not raping you, you little idiot!" Sasuke hollered back, and Naruto only just kept him in check.

"All right," the blond said, grinding his teeth in an effort to keep smiling. "New rule: No killing, beating, raping anybody."

Konohamaru sniffed. "I didn't do anything."

Naruto had to sit on Sasuke to keep him still at that. "Didn't do anything! You were the one who kicked me in the shin!"

"It was self-defence!"

"Self-defence!"

"Pre-emptive self-defence! Uncle Iruka said you rape little boys!"

"_What_! Oh, I'm going to kill you!"

"Shut up!" Naruto screamed, and surprisingly enough, both of them did.

"Sasuke," he said, still fighting to smile, "This is my cousin Konohamaru. Konohamaru, this is my friend Sasuke. Just to get you straight, Sasuke does not rape little boys."

Sasuke muttered something and Naruto hit him over the head and hissed, "No."  
Konohamaru just looked confused.

Sasuke tapped his fingers on the carpet impatiently. "Can you get off me now?" he asked curtly, glaring at the blond boy.

Naruto obliged, blushing, having realized he was enjoying that position. "Er. . .sorry."

Konohamaru stamped his foot. "I wanna go home!" he cried.

The two older boys stared at him blankly. "What?" Naruto asked, sounding kind of blank. "You just got here."

Konohamaru started some sort of crying-hiccup hybrid action and both boys stared at him. "I wanna go home! You two are mean!"

Sasuke and Naruto shared an annoyed look. Naruto rather quickly came to the conclusion it was a good thing they were gay, 'cause neither one of them seemed to be any good with kids. Naruto smiled tersely. "Now, don't you want to see Uncle Iruka? I'm sure he wants to see you."

Konohamaru shook his head and continued his pathetic wailing. "I wanna go home!"

Naruto kept smiling, although he looked pretty scary because said smile was so forced. "Konohamaru, don't you think it would make your uncle sad if you went home right now? He might think you don't like him."

"I don't like him! He left me here with you!"

Naruto heaved a defeated sigh. "Fine. I'll call your mother."

He stalked off into the kitchen, silently cheering with joy, then berating himself for screwing up. Iruka was going to be so mad at him. . .

He had barely dialled the number when there was a thump from the living room. Naruto hung up the phone, and wandered back, only to find Konohamaru unconscious on the floor, Sasuke standing over him, looking decidedly annoyed.

Sasuke looked at Naruto, who was glaring at him, and offered meekly, "I wanted him to be quiet."

Naruto sighed and shook his head. Whatever was he going to do?

- - - - - - - - - - -

Sakura twisted a lock of hair around her finger and hummed idly. She held the phone to her ear, waiting for someone to pick up. Now that her father was gone, she didn't have to sneak around.  
"Hello?" said a voice.

"Hi," she greeted, almost cheerfully. "Is Ino home?"

"No," said the voice, which belonged to her mother. "Ino went out with Shikamaru. They left about an hour ago."

Sakura blinked in surprise and said slowly, "Oh. Where did they go?"

"They went to see a movie," Mrs. Yamanaka said. "They won't be back 'til late."

Sakura seemed to deflate. "Oh. All right. Thank you."

She hung up and a scowl swept across her face. How dare she! That backstabbing. . .Oh! How could she! She'd thought that Ino had truly meant what she said to Sasuke, she'd thought that had meant it was official, at least between them!

"Whore," she growled between her teeth, her eyes darkening, with angry tears.

She felt so led-on and so betrayed. She was such an idiot! She should have never trusted Ino. It was true that maybe, in a sense, they were best friends, but they had always been out to hurt each other, mostly because of Sasuke. But now that he was behind them, she thought that maybe. . .

And they had kissed. She supposed that didn't mean anything at all.

Sighing, she flopped back on her bed, her muddled feelings forcing any energy she'd had away.

Why had she even wanted to be with Ino? She wasn't a lesbian, and she didn't even really like Ino all that much. All those bad feelings about their rivalry were still there. She sat up, still feeling left out and abandoned.

Well, there was only one thing she could do about this. If Ino didn't want to respect their supposed couple status, then she wouldn't either. Luckily, there was one person she knew that was stupid enough, gullible enough and just plain desperate enough to fool.

She picked up the telephone and did the unthinkable. She called Lee and asked him out.

- - - - - - - -

_Wham_!

Itachi looked up from his desk in disdain as Orochimaru dumped a pile of information books on the floor, nearly breaking the floorboards.  
"Must you?" he asked, annoyance evident in his voice.

"Yes," the other answered. "You're too intent on your work."

Itachi rolled his eyes and went back to copying a list of universities that offered the program he was looking at. "You're annoying," he muttered.

"And you're vain, conceited, egotistical, arrogant," Orochimaru began, counting off on his fingers all the bad traits that his boyfriend had.

Itachi scowled and continued to write out his list, nearly snapping the pen in half as he went. Orochimaru peeked over his shoulder. "So, what'cha lookin' at? Sexology? Bondage-ology?"

Itachi glowered. "How to kill one's annoying boyfriend and not get convicted-ology."

Orochimaru blinked. "Oh. I didn't know they had a program like that."

Itachi smacked his forehead with his hand. Why, oh why, did Orochimaru have to be so incessantly stupid!

"So, what are you really going in for?"

"Psychology."

"Oh! That suits you so well, considering you're insane!"

Orochimaru suddenly became acquainted with the floor, as Itachi threw a rather thick university book at him.

Itachi ignored him and continued on.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"Where are we going?"

Neither one answered him. They'd been hoping that the little brat wouldn't follow them, but he seemed intent on following his cousin, even if he didn't like him much.

"Where are we going!" Konohamaru demanded again, tightening his grip on Naruto's hand, so as to make sure he was in pain.

Naruto winced and murmured, "Somewhere."

"But where!" Konohamaru whined.  
On the other side of Naruto, Sasuke was sorely tempted to throttle the kid. He gritted his teeth and kept walking. 'Just keep walking, just keep walking. . .'

"We're going to Sasuke's house, okay?" Naruto offered meekly.

Konohamaru stared blankly. "Are you trying to kill me!" he screeched suddenly. "I don't wanna go there! He'll probably kill me, or rape me!"

"Would you shut up!" Sasuke yelled, barred from strangling the eight-year-old only by Naruto giving him a swift kick in his already bruised shin.

The blond sighed. Gods, these two were a handful. Sasuke seemed to have no tolerance for kids, especially not whiny ones, and Konohamaru was just that: whiny and aggravating. He'd been hoping that once Iruka had come home, Konohamaru would be content to stay there, while Naruto and Sasuke escaped.

Not so, and the little runt was tagging along with them and all he could do was hope that Itachi made a better babysitter than his younger brother.

Konohamaru had been wailing the entire time they were walking, like a banshee, screaming about how Sasuke was going to tie him up and rape him horribly. Sasuke had stormed ahead, his stride belaying how annoyed he was. Naruto wasn't quite sure if he wanted to get intimate with the older boy now that he was in such a foul mood.

Sasuke wasn't one to be gentle under the best circumstances.

"We're here," he announced, angrily, storming up the walk and into the house.

He had the common courtesy to leave the door open just a smidgen. Naruto dragged Konohamaru up the walk, his cousin digging his heels into the ground and refusing to go anywhere near that open door.

When at last Naruto managed to drag the brat inside, he was greeted by one thoroughly pissed off Sasuke angrily flipping through the T.V. channels, and two questioning older boys. Orochimaru looked at Naruto and said, "Aren't you a little young?"

Naruto blinked stupidly. "What?" he asked, not understanding Orochimaru's insinuation.

Konohamaru was screaming bloody murder. Itachi smacked his boyfriend. "Do you like being unconscious?" he asked.

Orochimaru shook his head and quickly shut up.

Naruto shoved Konohamaru toward the older teens. "Babysit," he growled, then beat a hasty retreat to the couch, where he tried to soothe Sasuke's ruffled feathers.  
Itachi and Orochimaru looked and Konohamaru and the little kid stared back. Then he screamed. "Naruto! They're gonna kill me! They're gonna kill me!"

Itachi gave Orochimaru an annoyed look and Orochimaru just smiled. "I think I'll be leaving now," he said, and made a headlong dash for the door.

Konohamaru sat down on the floor, screaming and crying about how he was going to meet a horrible demise.

Itachi was beating Orochimaru over the head with an umbrella that had been conveniently near the door.

Somewhere, in the melee, Naruto managed to coax his pissed off boyfriend upstairs, and to the bedroom.

Hot, kinky sex ensued.

- - - - - - - - - -

As Naruto's luck would have it, Iruka decided he'd better find his nephew before the police did, because it was well after nine o'clock, and Konohamaru's bedtime.

Naruto, of course, had been stupid enough to tell Iruka where he was going, so that was the first place the brunet teacher decided to look.

The doorbell rang and Itachi looked up from the issue of Cosmo he'd been engrossed in. Really, if he'd been straight, or even bi, he might have found these positions intriguing, but as he wasn't, he found them plain ridiculous. Orochimaru had been passed out in his lap, Itachi's elbows resting on either side of his nose. It had to be kind of painful, considering how the younger's elbows came to a wicked point.

Konohamaru had been on the floor, playing some of the toys Itachi had found in the basement. Honestly, he didn't need the kid screaming at him for three hours while his brother was fucking Naruto silly.

Itachi had marvelled at how fast technology aged. Most of the toys had been brand-new on the market seven years ago, when Sasuke was Konohamaru's age, and amazing to all who saw them. Not now, apparently. Konohamaru had rolled his eyes at most of the things the teenager offered him, complaining about how lame and outdated that was, and how it must have been "a hundred years old!"

The only thing that seemed to amuse him was the remote control car that Sasuke had long since discarded. Currently, he was having a blast using old boxes and blocks to make obstacles and ramps for the toy to smash through and fall off of. Itachi could only hope that Sasuke hadn't been planning on handing that down to. . .

Wait, what the hell was he talking about? Sasuke wasn't having kids, at least, not the way he was going now.

Konohamaru was racing the stupid, noisy thing all around the living room, which was why Itachi had his feet on the coffee table. He didn't fancy getting his newly pedicured toes run over. Orochimaru was a wonder with his hands, in more ways than one.

The only reason Itachi even tolerated it was because it was drowning out the loud groans and the squeaking of the bed springs from upstairs. He'd been counting in his head, each time the screams had reached their peak, then ebbed away. Currently, he was at five. Who knew his little brother had such stamina?

He had just turned the page in his magazine when the doorbell rang. Konohamaru dropped the remote control for the car, leaving the thing spinning in circles, racing to the door, screaming, "I'll get it!"

Itachi was about to comment on how that wasn't really a good idea since it was nine-thirty at night, and that this wasn't even his house, but the brat had already whipped open the door.

"Hi, Uncle Iruka!" he chirped, looking up at the man, while Itachi peered toward the door from his position on the couch.

"Hello, Konohamaru," Iruka said, his eyes darting about. Finding no trace of Naruto or Sasuke, he asked, "Where's your cousin?"

Konohamaru shrugged. "Him 'n' uh. . .what's his face went upstairs."

Konohamaru dashed back into the house, yelling over his shoulder, "Come see this cool car! It's awesome!"

Iruka glanced at Itachi, who looked away and didn't reply, then stepped into the house and shut the door.

"See! See! Isn't it cool!" Konohamaru exclaimed, pointing at the car and picking up the forgotten controls.

"I suppose," Iruka said, looking at the rather battered toy.

It appeared little boys were always hard on the things they played with.

"Watch, watch! I was just about to make it go over all these ramps, then smash through that wall! It's gonna be sweet!"  
And with that, Konohamaru repositioned the toy, then tried to make it go forward. It made a rather sick noise, and then went silent. Oh, what luck, the battery just died.

"Awwww," Konhamaru lamented, throwing the controller to the ground. "This sucks!"

He sat down on the ground, crossing his arms in bad temper. There was dead silence for a moment, broken only by the frantic sounds from upstairs. Itachi froze, feeling an impending sense of doom settle on his shoulders.

Iruka was some how going to hold him responsible for Sasuke's actions, wasn't he?

. . . yup, he was. Adults were such bitches.

Orochimaru just kept on snoring, oblivious to the impending scenario.

Iruka was looking up, murder in his eyes, though no one saw it, except the ceiling. And what a scared ceiling it was.

Konohamaru glanced up, a confused look on his face. "What are they doing up there?" he asked, perfectly innocent.

Iruka glared at Itachi. "You are so responsible for this," he growled, then stalked upstairs.

Itachi sighed and hung his head. Somebody tugged on his arm and he glanced at Konohamaru. "What are they doing?" the kid asked.

"Uuuhhh," was all Itachi could say.

He was not explaining sex to an eight-year-old kid he didn't even know.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Iruka had just walked in on a sight most parents did not like to see. Fortunately for him, he couldn't see most of what was going on, for Sasuke and Naruto had conveniently fallen off the bed during their mad romp.

Pushing past his shock, he ground out, "What the hell are you two doing!"

There was a pause, then, some scuffling, then Naruto murmuring, "Oh shit," and Sasuke muttering something back. Some more scuffling ensued.

Naruto was groping around on the bed, trying to find a place where he could easily remove the sheet. When he did so, the whole sheet came off the bed, and consequently, the lubricant, an empty bowl and anything that had been sitting on the bed fell off and smacked Naruto on the head.

Two sets of eyes peered over the edge of the bed at him, sheepishly.  
Iruka kept glaring.

Slowly, the eyes started to rise up, revealing noses, flushed cheeks, and mouths that sported bruised lips. Tangled hair stuck to sweaty skin.

Iruka crossed his arms. "And just what the hell were you two doing?"

"Uh. . .wrestling?" Naruto offered weakly, and Sasuke threw him a look that said, 'that was lame'.

Iruka shook his head in dismay. "I don't believe you two. Naruto just got out of the hospital, for crying out loud. The doctor told you not to do anything strenuous, didn't he?"

"Sex is not strenuous!" Naruto cried, rising up in indignation, forcing Sasuke to follow him.

"Yes, it damn well is!" Iruka yelled back, amazed at the blond's stupidity.

"How the hell would you know! I bet you've never had sex, you prude!"

Iruka went red in the face, and screamed, "At least I know better than to have unprotected sex, you little idiot!"

Iruka jabbed a finger in Naruto's direction. "I'm going to leave, and when I return, you'd better be dressed, ready to go and ready to be lectured, young man!"

"Whatever," Naruto muttered, glaring darkly.

Iruka briefly thought that Sasuke was rubbing off on Naruto, in more ways than one.

He turned and exited the room, slamming the door for emphasis.

- - - - - - -

Half an hour later, Naruto was sitting in one of the hard kitchen chairs, wishing he hadn't let Sasuke take him so roughly.

Iruka was going on and on and on and on, about how he was too young to have sex, and that he knew Naruto had raging hormones, and he knew it was a difficult time for him, but sex wasn't the answer, especially not in his condition and. . .

The most Naruto got out of it was "blah blah blah blahdidty blah."

Why did lectures have to be so boring?  
Konhamaru had been put to bed the instant they'd got home, and both Iruka and Naruto had refused to answer his questions, however many times he asked them. He was asleep in the guest room and Naruto could only wish that he'd get to his bed soon enough.

Iruka appeared to be winding down. "Do you understand, Naruto? I'm not mad at you, I'm just concerned about you."

Tch. He'd thought Iruka was above the cliche.

"So, you understand what I'm saying?"

Ah, it was time to nod and act like he'd been paying attention! So, nod he did. A gentle smile curved Iruka's lips when he did. "Good. Now, get to bed. You need your sleep."

Naruto nodded again and trudged upstairs.

He wasn't gone five minutes than someone knocked on the door. Frowning, Iruka padded over to the door, opening it and finding none other than Kakashi standing at his door.

Iruka felt exasperated. "What do you want?" he asked.

Kakashi smiled, in that kind of vague, conniving way of his, and wrapped an arm about Iruka's shoulder, leading him in. "Iruka, my dear friend, I'm in need of some assistance. . ."

Iruka looked sceptical, as if to say, 'With what?'

Kakashi grinned. "You see, I have this recurring fantasy, in which you are wearing nothing but an apron and-"

Iruka blanched in utter horror. "Are you crazy!"

Kakashi continued to grin. "Indeed, I may be. But, if you'll let me continue. . .this fantasy of mine decrees that you make me dinner while wearing nothing but said apron."

"No," Iruka snapped quickly. "What do you really want?"

Kakashi dropped the facade. "Well, actually, my car broke down. . .and my house is allllll the way on the other side of town. . .I know you've got a guest room, so maybe. . ."

"My nephew is staying over," the brunet responded dully.

"Oh," Kakashi looked a bit dejected, before his expression became coy. "I'm sure there's plenty of room in your bed."

"If you're staying here, you're sleeping on the couch."  
Kakashi sighed. "Please, Iruka? I've got a baseball tournament with the team tomorrow, and sleeping on the sofa always kills my back. I'll be good, I promise!"

Iruka rested his hands on his hips, glaring. "You're just making this up, aren't you?"

Kakashi nodded enthusiastically.

"Liar," Iruka sighed, then started for the upstairs, Kakashi following at his heels like a dog.

No sooner had Iruka shut the door then Kakashi pounced, sweeping the brunet teacher up in his arms. "Oh-ho, mon cherie," he chortled in a terrible and forced French accent.

Iruka tried to push him away, but that wasn't really working. It annoyed him that Kakashi could keep him in place with one hand, while he used the other to reach behind him and lock the door. Kakashi grinned widely.

"And now, my dear, the fun begins. . ."

The crash that ensued woke both Naruto and Konohamaru from their slumber. In a sleepy stupor, they both stumbled from their respective rooms, to look at the master bedroom and the closed door.

Naruto dashed down the hall and started pounding on the door. "Iruka! Iruka! Are you all right!"

"Oh, he's fine, blondie! Go back to bed!" returned a strange voice.

"Kakashi! Get off me! Naruto!" Iruka yelped.

Naruto blinked and stared at the door blankly. And to think, Iruka had been telling him not to have sex. . .

Konohamaru tugged on Naruto's pyjama sleeve. "Cousin Naruto? What's Uncle Iruka doing in there?"

Naruto blinked and looked down at Konohamaru. "Er. . .never mind."

Now, Konohamaru was a whiny, spoiled little brat, but he was by no means stupid. "Is he doing what you and Sasuke were doing?"

Naruto went red. "Go back to bed!" he screamed, smacking the little kid over the head with his fist.

Konohamaru squealed and ran back into his bedroom, knowing that he'd hit the nail on the head.  
- - - - - - - -

It was a bright, sunny afternoon in Konoha. Though the air was still bitter, the sun seemed to bring the people out and made them smile again.

TenTen was not one of the smiling people. She hugged her jacket about her, her eyes focussed on the ground, but seeing nothing. Her expression was stony and her whole aura seemed to exude depression.

How?

How could this happen to her?

She'd had hopes and dreams and plans. . .

She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She didn't know what to do.

She wanted to tell Neji, but she didn't, because he scared her a bit.

She wanted someone to tell her that it was all some sort of freak mix-up and she actually wasn't. . .

She wasn't. . .

She was four months pregnant.

- - - - - - - -

While TenTen was moping about her new and much unimproved situation, all the way across town, two other teenagers were filled with the infectious air the sun brought about to the people.

Hyuuga Hinata's small, daintily gloved hand was linked with that of Inuzuka Kiba. Hinata really didn't say much, smiling shyly, a light blush covering her cheeks. Despite this demeanor, however, she kept her distance, and Kiba wasn't quite sure why. Perhaps it was just because she was shy, or because she didn't want to invade his personal space, or because she didn't want her's invaded.

Still, he couldn't help but feel a little empowered, what, with this girl walking with him, holding his hand. She was so sweet, and so shy, that you would have never guessed she was the heiress to the Hyuugas' fortune.

She was pretty too, in her own way, and Kiba found himself enthralled with her. If only she wasn't so shy!  
But of course, that just added to her allure. He liked a challenge.

Currently, they were on their way for lunch. The restaurant wasn't much, but the food was good, and Kiba still worked by the code of chivalry, so he was bound, bent and determined to pay in full for both his and Hinata's meal.

Hinata seemed almost. . .distant. Of course, she giggled at all the right intervals, and blushed when he held her hand over the table, and commented on how nice the food was, and so on and so forth, but she didn't seem to be. . .there.

It was as if she was daydreaming about something else.

Someone else.

And Kiba knew just who.

Damn that Uzumaki! He was getting his ass kicked on Monday, right before class!

Nobody ruined Kiba's chances. Nobody.

- - - - - - - - -

While Kiba found his date to be off, Sakura was finding hers to be too keen. Lee was sitting too close to her for comfort, and holding her hand so tightly she thought her fingers were going to fall off. He had an arm draped about her waist, but unlike most teenage boys, had not once reached for her ass.

Lee was true to his word. He made sure that Sakura was having fun, that they did what she wanted, and he made suggestions if she couldn't think of anything. He never once got ambitious. He did no more than hold her hand, and that arm about her waist, and he never once said anything to imply anything.

Lee was just too nice. He was so sweet, it almost made Sakura sick, and she felt so bad knowing that she was doing this to get back at Ino.

But, it had the desired effect.

Ino, with her little pineapple-headed boyfriend had seen her with Lee, in broad daylight, surrounded by people. To top it all off, she'd pretended to see Ino, and gave her a little smile and a shy wave.

To that, Ino had stomped her foot and dragged Shikamaru off, her temper showing in her face and actions.

Ah, revenge was sweet.  
But somehow, it had a very bitter aftertaste.

- - - - - - - - -

"Change the channel!"

"No."

"I don't like this show! Change it!"

"No."

"Change it, or I'll tell Uncle Iruka you're being mean!"

"No."

Naruto sighed. Konohamaru had done nothing but whine in his ears for the past two days, and now he was glad he could pass it over to someone else.

He was in the kitchen, making Sunday dinner, because Iruka was going out for some teacher dinner thingy. Naruto hadn't really been paying attention. He'd invited his oh-so loving boyfriend over and decided to make him dinner. Which was turning out to be a disaster.

He'd already burnt most of everything. He wouldn't be surprised if he burnt ice cream. He really wasn't much of a culinary master. Ah, but he needed practice, and Sasuke would choke it down and tell him it was wonderful, because Sasuke wanted to get laid again.

He grinned. He loved having authority.

Currently, said Sasuke was in the living room, watching something or other, with Konohamaru complaining about changing the channel.

Somehow, Naruto could hear the smirk in Sasuke's voice every time he said, "No."

Naruto looked up and out the window. Outside, there had been a storm brewing for the past half-hour, complete with thunder and lightning, and all those other lovely things. The rain had just started coming down, and it was coming down in sheets, so that Naruto couldn't see out the window.

Lightning flashed, nearly blinding him. Thunder boomed in the background, startling all three boys, and sending Konohamaru into tears.

"Naruto!" he screeched, scampering out into the kitchen. "It's scary!"  
He clung to Naruto's legs, crying out as another boom rippled across the sky. He was shaking, poor thing.

Another flash of lightening had Naruto seeing coloured spots all about the room.

Sasuke wandered into the room. "Power's out," he declared.

Naruto sighed. He supposed dinner tonight would have to wait. Or be served cold. Either or.

- - - - - - - -

An "And the Beat Goes On" Side-Story

- - - - - - - -

"Sasuke + Porn True Love"

Sasuke snuck into the house, looking back and forth before he entered, and when he moved forward, tip-toeing his way into the foyer.

Once inside, he shut and locked the door, taking off his shoes.

He peered around the corner, tensing, as if he expected to be ambushed. Snickering to himself, he ran as quickly, and as silently, as he could, to the upstairs, mentally cursing every floorboard that creaked a million times over.

He glanced back down the stairs when he reached the top, making sure he hadn't been followed. He made a quick survey of the hall, then dashed into his room and shut the door.

He threw his backpack onto the floor and padded over to his window, shutting the curtains rather violently. He walked back to his bed, now in the sanctity of his darkened shrine, er, room.

Smiling, rather creepily, he dug about in his desk and found some matches. He used the matches to light several candles, which were burned often from the looks of them.

Waving out the last of the matches, Sasuke returned to his bed, still smiling. He dug a plastic bag out of his backpack, then kicked the bulky thing away in distaste. He held up the bag, smiling even wider now.

The printed logo on the bag said, "Chapters."

"And now, my precious," Sasuke hissed, mimicking Gollum from the Lord of the Rings, and slowly began pulling a mysterious item from the mysterious bag, in a mysterious way, of course.  
"It's just you and me," he purred, rubbing his cheek against the shiny cover of a brand-new book.

He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of the newly-purchased book.

Oh, but this was not just any book. It was the best book on the face of the earth. In fact, it was the best book in the whole history of the world.

Slowly, he released the book out of the death grip he had on it, looking at the triple x headlines on it, and the picture of a rather bronzed chick, showing her tits.

Sasuke drooled.

Indeed, this was the best book in the universe!

And now, now it was just him and the all-sacred newest issue of Playboy (for bisexuals at that. Who knew?)

He opened the cover, careful not to bend the all-precious magazine.

He stared at all the pictures of the nude women, and the nude guys too, his eyes very, very wide. Oh, curse thee, teenage hormones.

Of course, the best part of the magazine had to be the this month's fold-out. And who should that be, but everyone's favourite blond with his obnoxious orange pants down about his ankles and his cute little ass pointed at the camera?

Sasuke nearly passed out. Naruto was such a sex god! No wonder he had a shrine dedicated to the blond in his closet.

Unfortunately for Sasuke, his 'alone time' was ruined by the return home of one insane sibling named Itachi.

Now, Itachi seemingly had no respect for people's privacy, and Sasuke knew this very well. So, as soon as he heard the door crash open and Itachi clomp into the house, he jumped off his bed and began a sort of panic-induced ritual.

He blew out the candles, threw open the curtains and exchanged the magazine for another one he had stashed under his bed for such cases.

Itachi burst into his brother's room only moments later, grumbling something about Orochimaru, something about how he should have left the goddamn door unlocked and asking something about what he wanted for dinner.

Sasuke merely looked up at him from his magazine innocently, lying on his stomach to conceal. . .certain things.

Itachi slammed the door shut. Sasuke sighed. He could only be thankful that his brother never questioned why he was reading Cosmo.

- - - - End Side Story - - - - -


	17. Restless

(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Remember, if you're reading, please review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat goes On  
Chapter 17: Restless

Konohamaru sat on the stone wall, looking down into the crystalline water in the pond. The golden-coloured koi nibbled at his feet. They were still babies, not yet big enough to be adults. He sighed heavily, being careful not disturbed his fishing line.

It was a bright sunny day, and nobody was home. He was sitting in the backyard, fishing in the pond, simply because he had nothing to do. He had yet to hook a fish. They all thought his toes were far more amusing. Technically, the water should have been freezing over, but the weather was still nice, and it hadn't.

It was Monday, and though he was supposed to have gone home last night, his mother had called around eleven, asking his uncle if he could keep him for a few more days. Of course, Iruka had agreed, and Konohamaru was stuck there for the next couple of days.

It wasn't that the eight-year old disliked his uncle, or his cousin for that matter, but that this always happened. He'd been bounced around from relative to relative, only seeing his mother for a few short days before he was landed somewhere new, for a week, for a month, for a year. He knew his other relatives more intimately than he knew his mother, which made her, in his mind, the distant relative all the others were supposed to be.

He grinned widely, kicking his feet and scaring away the fish. Iruka was a very nice person, and a very good uncle, as he'd found. He'd managed to obtain all sorts of toys and candies out of the man, even though he'd been there for a grand total of three days. He liked Naruto too, because the blond was loud, and garnered attention. He wanted some attention too.

He got up and discarded his fishing rod, wandering about the backyard in search of something to do. Iruka had already given him a very special assignment, but while his cousin was at school, he couldn't carry out his orders.

His uncle had given him permission to follow his blond cousin where ever he went, and to keep him as far away from Sasuke as he could at all times. When that wasn't possible, he was supposed to tag along with the two, never giving them any time alone. He suspected that it had something to do with the bedroom incident Saturday night, and the lecture Naruto had received.

He stretched and put his arms behind his head. Yes, it was hard work keeping those two away from each other. They wouldn't do anything more than hold hands in his presence and Konohamaru was glad. He thought all kissing was icky, and he didn't want to think about kissing girls, or kissing boys either.

He grinned and rocked on his heels. A job well done had earned him a snack, he decided, and he pandered back into the house, in search of junk food.

- - - - - - - - -

"Uzumaki!" 

The addressed boy turned his head slightly, glancing toward the door, where the one doing the addressing stood, pointing his finger in Naruto's direction accusingly. The blond sighed tiredly. He did not want to deal with this right now.

"What, Inuzuka?"

Kiba came charging down the stairs, still jabbing that finger at Naruto, his face screwed up with anger and jealousy. Naruto swivelled around on the piano bench, facing the enraged teenager, looking decidedly bored. Shikamaru would have been proud. 

"You!" the dark-haired one cried, the anger resounding in his voice, and he choked on his next words, the raw emotion disabling his ability to speak.

All eyes were on the spat being played out at the front of the room. It was only five to eight, so Iruka was nowhere to be seen, as of yet. Hinata covered her face in shame, blushing to see her two favourite people fighting. She could only guess why.

Kiba shoved his face into Naruto's, his dark eyes boring into the blond's. "You," he said again. "And me, right here. Right now."

A look of confusion passed across the blond's face, before he shoved the other teen away. "What the fuck's your problem?" he asked, a bitter tone residing in his voice.

He turned his back on Kiba then, intent on ignoring the confrontational boy. Kiba growled, then threw a punch, landing his fist square in Naruto's back, winding him.

The blond made a sick noise, and as soon as he'd collected himself, got up, rising to his full height, which was still less than Kiba's, and glared. "What the fuck?" he shouted, taking a swing at Kiba. 

Kiba evaded the blond's attack, throwing another punch, and decking Naruto in the face. The smaller boy growled, the latched on to Kiba's neck, wrapping his hands about the older boy's throat, intent on throttling him. Kiba clawed at Naruto, pulling at his hair, raking his nails down the boy's back, biting, kicking, and swinging his arms about in an attempt to dislodge the boy.

Eventually, he managed to throw Naruto from him, and as soon as the blond was sailing through the air, launched himself after his opponent, tackling him and pinning him to the ground. He lifted his arm up, ready to unleash a deluge of blows.

Naruto brought his knee up, a very strategic move, as Kiba had been straddling his legs, keeping them pinned. Kiba howled in pain for a second, then launched himself at Naruto again and the two boys began wrestling on the floor for supremacy. Blood was being spilled by the time Iruka walked into the room.

He stared at the two boys for a split-second, watching them tussle and try to tear each other to bits, before he started yelling. "Uzumaki! Inuzuka! What the hell are you doing?" 

He somehow managed to pull the two boys apart, while the rest of the band stared at the teacher, awed, because never before had Iruka uttered an obscenity in their presence. Hinata took the moment to flee, getting up so quickly that she knocked her chair over. 

Some of the students turned around, watching the brunette run out of the room. They turned their attention back to the front of the room, eager to see the punishment doled out. Iruka had been berating the teens while the attention was transferred to Hinata.

"Get to the office, both of you. I'll let the principal deal with you," the brunet teacher snarled.

Naruto and Kiba shared a glare, then proceeded to walk out of the room, humiliation coming over them, each nursing their wounds. Kiba walked out of the room first, giving the blond a little sneer, and Naruto glared daggers at him all the way down the hall, hand clutched to his cheek.

Iruka sighed heavily, watching them go, then turned back to his gaping class. "Did anyone see where Hinata went?" he asked, sounding exasperated. This was not a good way to start the day.

The class gave him a blank look, and his next question about why the boys had been fighting was replied to in the same way. Iruka sighed again, deciding it was better to forget the whole incident and picked up his music, setting it on his stand. "All right then," he started, his voice drifting to monotone. "If you'll all turn to page fifty-seven. . ."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Naruto had sat down in the chair farthest away from Kiba. He watched the other boy out of the corner of his eye, waiting for the dark-haired boy to make an obscene gesture toward him, or move closer, or anything. Kiba did nothing, sitting in his chair, staring dully ahead.

Naruto turned his glance away, turning to look instead at the secretary. She was typing away, seemingly bored beyond belief.

The seconds ticked by.

Naruto snuggled down in his chair, preparing for a long wait. At last, the door to the principal's office clicked open, and someone walked out. Naruto squinted for a moment, trying to place the appearance.

Gaara looked sulky, and didn't even smile when he saw Naruto. "Uzumaki," he murmured with a curt nod, then continued on his way out of the office.

"Hey!" the blond cried, hopping up out of his seat. "What were you-"

The door shut and Naruto angrily pulled it open, only to hear the secretary bark, "Uzumaki! Sit down!"

Sighing heavily, he sat back down, wondering what in the world the Gaara could have been in the office about. There were too many possibilities to rule anything out. It was Gaara, after all.

It wasn't too much longer before they were called in; both of them, at once. How spectacularly crappy. He didn't even know why Kiba was so pissed off. Did someone piss in his cornflakes or something? No one could ever tell and he could only wait for Kiba to spill the beans.

The two boys sat down in front of the desk and waited for the principal to start.

Jiraiya was an older man, with a shock of silver hair that tumbled down his back. He was rumoured to be somewhat of a pervert, and Naruto wondered how he kept his job.

The principal coughed and looked down, then at the two boys. "I think you two know why you're here," he said.

Both Naruto and Kiba were rolling their eyes. Here was the whole standard principal speech, in a nutshell. Jiraiya grinned widely at both of them. "So, you're both suspended for two weeks! Personally, I think fighting is the manly way to resolve things, but school regulations say I can't let you guys brawl. So, don't think of this as suspension, think of it as vacation!"

Both boys stared blankly at Jiraiya, who stopped grinning and shuffled some papers on his desk. Sheepishly, Naruto finally said, "Um, Sir? I just had most of last week off, and I can't afford to miss any more time -"

Jiraiya smiled, which was somewhat creepy. "Well then, you shouldn't have been fighting on school property."

Naruto stood up then, pointing a finger at Kiba. "It wasn't my fault! He attacked me first!"

"So?" was the principal's cool reply. "You fought back."

"It was self-defence!" Naruto cried, fighting a losing fight.

Jiraiya shrugged. Naruto groaned. Iruka was going to have his head on a silver platter! The principal waved a hand at them. "All right now, you're dismissed. Goodbye, see you in two weeks."

Both boys left the office, grumbling and cursing under their breath.

- - - - - - - - - -

Sakura slammed her locker shut, holding her English books in one arm, shutting the locker with the other hand. She was just about to walk away when someone's hand clamped down on her shoulder.

She spun around, only to come face to face with Ino. The blonde girl glared at her, eyes narrowed in anger, suspicion and even hate. Inwardly, Sakura cheered. Her little stunt had worked wonders. Outwardly, she appeared dull and disinterested. "What do you want?" she asked.

Ino hissed. "You. You backstabbing little bitch."

Sakura couldn't help the smirk that rose to her face. She turned completely around, and waggled her finger in Ino's face. "Ah-ah-ah. You were the backstabbing bitch first, dear." 

Ino looked taken back. "Me? You were the one who went out with Lee-"

"And you were the one who went to the movies with Shikamaru. Alone."

Ino rolled her eyes. "Oh, grow up."

"You're the one who needs to grow up Ino! I'm not your plaything! You're going to have to commit!"

Sakura was well aware that she was raising her voice, but she didn't care. Ino gritted her teeth, but before she could say anything, Sakura continued. "You just don't get it!"

Ino grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her closer. "You're the one who doesn't get it, Sakura," she growled.

She twisted Sakura's wrist a bit, making the girl wince in pain. "You're mine," she whispered, then pressed her lips to Sakura's in a searing, yet quick kiss.

She pulled away, leaving the pink-haired girl breathless and smirked, before she walked smartly away, saying nonchalantly, "I'll see you in class."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Life was a funny thing, especially when it decided it was going to be a comedian. Uchiha Itachi knew this first hand.

Itachi had never ever given thought to the possibility of liking boys. In fact, it was often rumoured that he didn't like anyone at all, which was partially true. He was a loner by nature, and he preferred to be that way.

Unfortunately, Itachi was a genius, he was gifted in athletics, and some people seemed to find him attractive. His classmates were always willing to shrug off his cold and arrogant nature to try and make friends with him. He'd thought about murdering the lot of them many times when he was younger. He'd also come from an extremely wealthy family, so there was no doubt that some of the kids were after his money.

In the sixth grade, some of the boys in his grade had started making fun of him. He wore his hair long, and his lashes were long, and dark enough to make it look like he was wearing mascara. His skin was pale and perfectly smooth. They asked him some rude things, made insinuations about being a girl, and so on and so forth, but he ignored them. Immaturity was for losers.

In the seventh grade, the insinuations got worse. They no longer merely implied that he was a girl - he knew he looked feminine - but asked him more specifically about female parts, that he did not have.

In the eighth grade, the boys were interested in trying to knock him up, apparently, Their jokes were cruder, and more than once, he'd been felt up, at recess, in the bathroom, even in the classroom. He'd always promised himself that he'd kick the ass of the next guy to even think about trying that, but it kept happening, time and time again.

Now that he was older, and wiser, he realized it was probably because he enjoyed it, but he'd never admit that to himself. He didn't like to be touched, and denied himself anything akin to pleasure, but boys were curious at that age, and he knew he'd liked it.

The worst point had been when that bastard Momochi Zabuza had pinned him down and kissed him, really fucking kissed him, in front of everyone. The girls were disgusted, and so were most of the boys. They'd made the classic disgusted noises, and a few had giggled, and the boys had made their crude jokes.

Zabuza was in the hospital for six weeks after that. Nobody had tried to grope him after that, until their graduation party.

Some guys from high school - grade twelves likely - had shown up, with alcohol and such, and if they hadn't given it to all the stupid little eighth graders, who'd gotten themselves smashed. Nothing really bad had happened - he hadn't been raped, he was sure of that, because he hadn't been that drunk, but tipsy enough to let himself be passed around like a whore. He was almost sure he'd swapped spit with every boy in the eighth grade.

When he started ninth grade, he was glad, because he had been sure he was going to get away from the immaturity of his peers. It was also sort of a fresh start, with people he didn't know, didn't have to know and wouldn't know. 

How very wrong he'd been. Nobody had really grown up over the vacation, and everyone still laughed, and the boys he'd known in grade school still made jokes. He still kicked ass. Nothing really changed, except that there were a few new faces involved.

It had been during the first month of his first semester, that he had met Orochimaru. The boy was a year and a half his senior, and downright weird. He was more mature than half of his peers, but still an idiot, and highly immature, as Itachi had thought.

Orochimaru never really talked about anything at all, he just talked, about stupid things. He had failed most of his classes last year, and it was rumoured he had no parents and lived by himself. He had a job, which was something most of his classmates didn't.

He had been in Itachi's home room class, French, or something stupid like that. Itachi didn't care, because he learned very quickly, and got nearly perfect in all of his classes. He skulked in one of the back corners, often not working, because he was done in the first five minutes, while the rest of the class slogged on.

Orochimaru sat in the other back corner, and would sit there, glancing up from his work, thinking he was sly, giving the other boy the oddest look. Then, he'd smirk, and go back to his sheet, which Itachi suspected he never really read.

To say he was intrigued was an understatement. He wanted to know why the older boy looked at him like that, why he did what he did. Half of him suspected that he was attracted by that air of seniority, and mature immaturity. What could the older boy give him?

One day, in the middle of class, the teacher had just finished handing out their worksheet. Orochimaru had actually appeared to get to work this time, grabbing the sheet out of the teacher's hand and setting his pen to the paper faster than lightning. Itachi was startled to look over and find out what that look had meant.

Orochimaru was holding up his sheet, and on the back, he'd written, in big, bold letters, "I want you." 

Itachi had blinked several times at the sheet, then looked at Orochimaru, who set down the sheet and smiled slyly. Itachi had gone rather red in the face and looked back at his own paper, pretending to be indulged in his work.

He'd been so busy ignoring the older boy that he didn't even hear the bell that ended class and set them free to a fifteen minute break. He didn't notice that the class, and even the teacher was gone, until someone whispered, hot in his ear, "You're awful hard."

Itachi had frozen, until whoever it was hissed, "working," completing the sentence that was otherwise completely wrong.

He tried to force his mind out of the gutter. Slowly, he glanced up, seeing Orochimaru smirking down at him. They were almost nose to nose. He tried to back away, but found that he had nowhere to go. Orochimaru's hand was on his cheek. "You're so pretty," the older said, and Itachi found himself blushing.

Orochimaru threw a hasty glance back at the door, then at the clock. "You're lucky. We've still got fifteen minutes. The bell just rang."

Itachi could only stare in disbelief as Orochimaru stood up and fiddled with his pants, unfastening them as quickly as he could. "What are you doing?" he hissed, glaring at the older boy.

Orochimaru grinned wickedly. "What do you think I'm doing?"

Itachi glared more. "The teacher!" he hissed, well aware that if the teacher came back, he'd be at least suspended, even if he had no part in this.

"Her keys are on the desk. She can't get back in," the older boy said, pulling his pants down a bit. "So, do you want me?"

Itachi couldn't say anything. He was too stupefied. He could only watch in horror as the older boy pulled his cock out of his underwear. He glanced up at Orochimaru, then down again, feeling slightly sick.

"Well, go on. Do you want to or not?" 

Hesitantly, with more than one glance at the older boy, he got down on his knees. Nervously, he did what he'd been bidden to do - what he'd agreed to do. He'd sucked for all he was worth, while Orochimaru's hands were tangled in his hair.

Orochimaru had been careful, keeping an eye on the clock, and goading the younger boy on, offering advice.

As with anything, Itachi had caught on quickly, and the only thing that threw him off was the older boy groaning his name loudly, and then, in the moment of confusion that followed, being kissed, some of the stuff that had gathered on his lips because he'd forgotten to swallow being washed away by a careful tongue.

Orochimaru had helped him back to his feet, where he stood, shakily, realization of what he'd just done setting in. Orochimaru had straightened himself, and the younger up a bit, then said with a sly smirk, "Quick learner, aren't ya?" 

There had been a few words exchanged, and Itachi found himself with a slip of paper in hand that gave him the older boy's phone number and address, and an invitation that promised more for that night.

Being a curious boy, Itachi, though loathe to leave Sasuke at home by himself, but figuring that the younger could take care of himself, had taken Orochimaru up on that offer. It had been well after midnight when he'd arrived, because he'd walked, rather than taking the bus.

Orochimaru's apartment was small, dirty, and bland, but that didn't matter, because it was secluded, and empty, and they were alone. Their second session was far more intimate than their first, Itachi letting himself go, and allowing Orochimaru to educate him in human sexuality.

It wasn't slow, and it wasn't sweet like those stupid chick flicks made it out to be. It was animalistic, it was rough, and Itachi was sure he'd sported numerous bruises in the morning. The floor had been unforgiving. Orochimaru hadn't even had the decency to take a virgin on his bed, though he had woken up there in the morning.

It had satisfied his curiosity though, for a little while at least. He blamed curiosity as what drove him back to the older boy, but later, he was loathe to admit it had been infatuation. He liked the way Orochimaru looked at him, he liked the way Orochimaru made him feel. 

Eventually, he'd grown bold enough to take his lover to his own bed, which had almost cost him Orochimaru entirely, because the older boy was so jealous of the splendour Itachi lived in. Itachi wasn't one to be deterred if there was something he wanted, or needed, and Orochimaru, as it turned out, ended up being both wanted and needed.

Itachi remembered Sasuke's reaction when he'd found out that his older brother had a boyfriend. At first, he'd been shocked and dumbfounded. Then, he'd started laughing. The younger Uchiha had been rolling around on the floor laughing for a good half hour, and the elder was beginning to think that calling the nuthouse might be a good idea, when Sasuke came around, sat up, and screamed.

The boy wouldn't talk to him for weeks straight, avoided unnecessary contact, and finally, accepted it. He wasn't pleased with it, that was for sure, but he never said anything about Orochimaru's presence, though it was apparent that they hated each other.

At least, that was what Itachi remembered. He honestly didn't know why he continued to try and drag them places together, as the two boys were dead set against each other. Even a task as simple as walking home, which they were doing right now, caused an uneasy tension between them.

Orochimaru was walking on the left side of Itachi, Sasuke on the right. Orochimaru looked over Itachi, and smirked at Sasuke. "Hey Short Stuff! I heard your boyfriend got suspended for fighting."

Sasuke said nothing, staring straight ahead. Itachi sighed. His boyfriend was trying to start a fight. "Can't you two get along?" he murmured, sighing heavily.

The older boy looked at him. "Hm? You want us to get along? Well, I'm sure we could do that. We can co-operate, right Sasuke?"

Sasuke glared. Orochimaru froze. "Er. . .okay, so we can't. But hey, if it means getting your brother in the sack-"

If possible, Sasuke glared more. "No," he growled icily, then walked further ahead.

Orochimaru whistled. "What a bitch," he muttered.

Itachi grumbled and continued on his way.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Naruto sighed and flopped down onto the park bench. He had nothing better to do. He'd been kicked out of school, and he really didn't want to go home. Konohamaru was waiting to ambush him there. The little runt had been extremely annoying lately, and Naruto almost thought there was some conspiracy going on.

He had his portable cd player on, and the music turned up as loud as it could go. He stretched out on the bench, looking skyward, watching the fluffy white clouds roll by. He hoped they'd get snow soon.

He'd been all around Konoha today, having nothing better to do than wander aimlessly. He hoped Sasuke wasn't too worried about him. After all, he'd never gone to class. He swung his foot around to the time of his music.

After a what seemed like a long time, he sat up a bit. He sighed. It was nearly five o'clock, and time for him to be heading home. He'd been hoping Sasuke would somehow know he was here and come get him.

Someone sat down beside him, rather suddenly, and he glanced to his left. One Hyuuga Neji was sitting beside him, staring at the ground. Naruto blinked in confusion. Neji sighed and Naruto opened his mouth to speak, but the older boy beat him to it. "Uzumaki, you haven't seen TenTen anywhere, have you?" 

Naruto shook his head and Neji sighed again, looking away. "Was she at school today?" the blond asked, wondering why he was even worried about TenTen. He barely knew her. Somehow, though, he had a terrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, which only got worse when Neji shook his head.

"Maybe she was sick," Naruto offered, trying to help.  
Neji shook his head again. "No. She wasn't home. Her parents don't know where she is either." 

Naruto felt sick. "Oh," he said a little stupidly.

Neji stood up. "Thanks for your time, Uzumaki," he said, with a curt nod, and was on his way.

Naruto sighed and flung himself off the bench, deciding to get himself home. What if there was a rapist or a kidnapper around?

However, before he got home, he was accosted by one Uchiha Sasuke. Sasuke was carrying his book bag, complete with all the books. He was frowning, somewhat pissed off. "Uzumaki," he growled, "Why the hell weren't you at home?" 

"Jeez, what crawled up your ass and died?" Naruto asked, grabbing the book bag from Sasuke.

The book bag found itself flung halfway across the park, as one very angry Uchiha swept Naruto into his arms in the fiercest hug the blond had ever received, and kissed the bewildered boy like there was no tomorrow.

They had toppled to the ground sometime during that kiss, and even though the first one was broken, it was followed by a hundred thousand little shards of kisses. Naruto managed to push the amorous boy away from him, breathing harshly, as Sasuke pressed them together as hard as he could.

"Jeez!" he cried. "What the hell did you have!"

"Deprivation," Sasuke murmured, attempting to lick Naruto's ear. Naruto slapped him.

"No! You're. . .horny! Did you have viagra or something?"

Sasuke looked insulted. "I don't need that, thank you. You seem quite capable of getting it up there."

Naruto tried to push the older boy away. "You. . .you're sick! Are you running a fever? You've lost it, you've gone crazy- "

"No," Sasuke murmured, trying to lick Naruto's ear again, and succeeding this time. "I just want you. Badly."

Naruto blushed. "Not here," he hissed, well aware that this was a public place.

Sasuke frowned, all his former passion reverting to logic. "Then where? You're house? My house? There are people there. There's nobody here, except for you. . .and me. . ."

To say that both boys got home very, very late would be an understatement.  
- - - - - - - - - - -

Naruto slammed the door, announcing he was home, which was probably a stupid thing to do, considering it was well past eleven o'clock. The TV was on, which was strange, because Iruka almost never watched TV on week nights.

He ventured into the living room, to find Konohamaru glued to the television, the lights out, and the bluish glow of the tube filling the room. "That's bad for your eyes you know," Naruto grumbled, switching on the lights.

Konohamaru squealed, dove for the remote, turned the Tv off and whipped around saying, "What the hell! When did you get home!"

Naruto gave him a very dark look. "Don't swear," he growled.

"You do - all the time!" the younger boy argued.

"Don't follow my example," Naruto muttered. "What are you doing up anyway? Where's Iruka?"

The brunet boy shrugged. "Oh, he's at some meeting, or something." 

Naruto muttered something under his breath which sounded suspiciously like, "Meeting? More like he's off fucking Kakashi senseless."

He sighed then, and muttered, "I should have known."

He got up and wandered into the kitchen. "Did you have dinner?"

Konohamaru nodded, then, with a sly smirk, said, "Where have you been, Naruto?"

The blond boy froze, and if he had been facing the younger, he would have seen that his face was very, very red. "Never mind!" he snapped and Konohamaru grinned.

"Seen your looooover?" he asked, drawing out the last word, putting emphasis on it.

"No!" Naruto snapped. 

"Oooooh, Naruto's got a boyfriend."

Naruto turned around, face as crimson as a tomato and pointed at the stairs. "Go to bed! Now!"

Konohamaru stood still, grinning like an idiot. "Was there lots of kissing?"  
"_Now_!" Naruto screamed.

Konohamaru yipped and ran up the stairs like he was being chased by the hounds of hell, which could have been very plausible, seeing as an enraged Naruto was not a good Naruto.

- - - - - - - - - -

Iruka snuggled into Kakashi's shoulder, resting his socked feet on the coffee table. Absently, Kakashi wrapped an arm about the brunet's shoulders.

On the TV screen, a terrified woman, with rather large breasts, screamed and ran from a grotesque killer. It was a cheesy horror movie, but it gave Iruka a chance to snuggle close to Kakashi and he really didn't mind that the movie was so horrible.

Kakashi was engrossed in the movie, his eyes glued to the screen. Now that Iruka thought about it, Kakashi probably wasn't paying too much attention to the plot of the movie, but more to the woman's bosom, especially now that it was the classic rain-in-the-white-t-shirt scene. Iruka thought he could almost see the silver-haired man drooling.

He rolled his eyes, and wondered what was going through the other's mind at that moment. Probably something stupid like, "Man, I wish Iruka had tits". The brunet shuddered at the thought and the mental image that accompanied it.

Maybe it was better that he couldn't read Kakashi's mind.

"So. . .yeah," he murmured, trying to catch the other man's attention.

Kakashi almost immediately tore his eyes away from the TV to look at him. Iruka felt slightly warm and fuzzy. "Hm? What is it?"

"About the holidays. . ."

Kakashi waited for him to continue, eyes occasionally drifting in the direction of the movie. "What about them?"

Iruka shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, nothing really. It's just that they're in a week or two and I was wondering what you had planned. . ."

Kakashi smiled. "Nothing really. And I'm glad, because it sounds like you're inviting me to do something."

Iruka batted a wandering hand away. "Well, actually, I was thinking about going up north. I have a cabin up there and -"

Kakashi pushed a slender finger against the brunet's lips in order to silence him. "Say no more," the silver-haired one said, in his most 'valiant' voice. "I shall accompany you to keep you warm and entertained on those cold winter nights."

Iruka hardly had to guess how Kakashi planned to keep him warm and entertained, but refrained from frowning and ploughed on. "The boys are going too."

"Boys?" Kakashi asked. "Didn't you only have one, last time I checked?" 

Iruka nodded. "Yes, but my nephew is here, and from what I gather, his mother won't be collecting him any time soon."

The brunet had been in contact with other relatives, and had only heard bad things about how Konohamaru was being raised. He figured he was going to have to enroll the boy in school sooner or later.

Kakashi looked vaguely disappointed. "So, there'll just be the four of us?"

Iruka shook his head. "No, because Naruto will want to bring Sasuke along. . .for. . .uh. . ."

"Sexual companionship," Kakashi concluded.

"No!" Iruka cried, nearly slapping the other. "Er. . .no. . .just so that there's someone his own age there."

Kakashi nodded sagely, as if he understood perfectly. "Sexual companionship," he concluded. 

Iruka rolled his eyes and ground his teeth. "No! You old pervert! Get your mind out of the gutter. Yeesh, you're as bad as the students."

"And you're like some prim and proper old lady."

"_What_!"

Kakashi found himself aggressively attacked by one of the pillows on his sofa. "Ow! Ow! Ow! Mercy! Mercy!"

"Call me an old lady! I'll show you old lady!"

- - - - - - - - -


	18. If By Snow

(Author's Note: If you're reading, please review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 18: If By Snow

"Well, this bites," Orochimaru grumbled, settling down in his seat.

Itachi merely glanced at him, then returned to looking out of the car window. Snowy scenery rolled by. In between the two teens, Konohamaru bounced excitedly in his seat. "Vacation, vacation!" he cried, clapping his hands, which he'd been doing for the last hour and a half.

"Konohamaru, can you please quiet down? I have a headache." Iruka said, twisting around in the front see to smile tersely at his nephew, who shut up for all of ten minutes.

Kakashi drove on, blissfully unaware of anything, and everything, even other cars on the road. Iruka wondered how the older man had ever got his license. Sure, it was snowy and all, but in the last half-hour alone, he'd had to scream at Kakashi to veer out of the way of four on-coming tractor trailers. It was starting to grate on his nerves.

Not to mention that Sasuke and Naruto were sitting in the back of the SUV, amid all their luggage, which just happened to be slightly illegal. They'd been pretty quiet, and Iruka couldn't help but wonder what they were up to. All he could see was a few dark strands of hair sticking up over the back of the seat, and a few blond ones. Other than that, the two boys were hidden from view.

He glanced at Itachi and Orochimaru, both who were sulking and glaring out the windows of the car. He had no clue why those two were here, or why he'd even let them come along, but, it didn't really seem to be harming anything.

Itachi, on the other hand, knew exactly how they ended up in the car, with two teachers, an annoying brat, his little brother and his boyfriend. Orochimaru had somehow thought it would be excellent to leave the large, empty house, venture up north with a bunch of people, and somehow have fun. Itachi suspected Orochimaru was hoping for a romp in the snow. However, he forgetting one key factor: Itachi _hated_ snow, hated it with a passion, and was happier when he was warm.

He had no desire to get frostbite on the. . .more sensitive areas of his body.

He returned to watching the snow covered landscape roll by, and shivered. Gods, winter was. . .disgusting. It was snowy, and it was cold, and it was cold and snowy all at once and. . .ugh.

He was going to kick Orochimaru's ass when they got wherever they were going. Which happened sooner than he expected, because after a moment or two of being jolted around by the SUV on rough terrain, Kakashi parked the car, cut the engine and exclaimed happily, "We're here!"

Konohamaru bounced right over Itachi and out of the vehicle, screaming, "All right!" He landed in the snow, fell over and rolled over several times, giggling like an inane idiot.

Itachi got out of the vehicle carefully, intent on stalking around the other side and kicking Orochimaru in the shins, until he fell over, then in the ribs, until he rolled off a cliff. However, this murderous course of action was prevented by a rather large gob of snow deciding it rather liked Itachi's shoe, and would like to get better acquainted with his foot.

Pausing, he took off his shoe, hoping to empty it out, only to be tackled by Orochimaru, and pushed into the snow. "Augh!" Itachi cried, trying to keep Orochimaru off him.

"Isn't the snow fun!" the older boy cried, to which the younger responded by slapping him, then pelting him right between the eyes with a snowball.

Itachi threw his boyfriend off him, got up, and stalked toward the house, trying to shake the snow from his person before it had time to melt.

Orochimaru sighed. "What a stick in the mud. . ."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I can't believe they sent us grocery shopping."

"Hn."

"I can't believe you actually have your license and never told me."

"Hn."

"Is that all you can say?"

"Hn."

Itachi looked decidedly bored, scrutinizing the shelf and trying to decide between the cheap cereal, which was a knock-off of the expensive cereal, and the expensive cereal itself. Orochimaru was standing a few feet behind him, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Well?" he asked finally.

Itachi didn't even look at him. ". . .How much money do you have on you?"  
Orochimaru looked baffled, before taking out his wallet and checking. ". . .Eighty," he muttered finally.

Itachi practically threw the cheaper cereal into the cart. "Wonderful," he muttered. "And I don't have my credit card."

"You have a credit card!" Orochimaru cried, stupefied. "How come you never told me this! How come you're so friggin' stingy?"

Itachi rolled his eyes and kept moving, while Orochimaru chased after him, still ranting about how he was never told anything.

- - - - - - - - - -

It was about four o'clock when it started snowing. Ino and Sakura were sitting in Ino's living room, drinking the hot chocolate Mrs. Yamanaka had made for them. Ino had stopped suddenly in their conversation, and pointed at the window.

"Look, Sakura," she said, softly, almost shyly. "It's snowing."

Sakura nodded with dumb recognition. "So it is," she responded, just as quietly.

Slowly, they turned their attention away from the window and the dancing, dazzling snowflakes whirling on the wind, and back to each other. Their lips met softly, almost without effort, and they glided into the kiss.

They parted, and Sakura sat back, smiling, tucking her hair behind her ear. "So. . .we're forgiven then?" she asked, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.

"I guess so," Ino murmured, setting down her drink.

"I guess we should. . ."

"Commemorate. . ."

Sakura set down her drink and gently took Ino by the hand, leading her to stand, and then, to walk with her toward the stairs. They went slowly, each keeping her thoughts to herself, not wishing to voice that they were entirely unsure of this to the other, when she seemed so eager.

Their footsteps seemed to echo all too loudly in the empty hallway. The door at the top of the stairs seemed to creak with age, and it squealed on its hinges, deafening both, who were already deafened by the thudding of their hearts in their throats.

They shared a nervous look and they giggled, nervously, trying to break the tension.  
Did they really want to do this? Were they really ready for it?

They slid inside the room together, careful to shut the door, and the blonde girl went so far as to lock it.

Now they were alone and there was no way to get away, other than to continue.

Still giggling, Sakura sat down on the bed, feeling it give beneath her. She said nothing, just blushed and giggled a little harder, her nervousness destroying any rational thought she could have held. Her heart thudded away in her chest, raising her blood pressure, making sure she knew she was nervous.

Ino was standing at the door, her eyes steadily fixed on the ground, as if she was in deep thought. Sakura waited for her, but the longer she waited, the more nervous she became and the more fidgety she became.

Ino still stood there, as if she'd been frozen.

Impatience won out and nearly tripping over her own feet from the rush of adrenaline she was finally receiving, Sakura made her way noiselessly from the bed to the blonde girl.

"Ino," she murmured, almost breathlessly, her fear stripping away most of her voice.

The other girl didn't look up. Gently, Sakura placed two fingers under the blonde's chin, lifting her head and her gaze. There was no resistance; Ino wanted to look at her.

She smiled, closing her eyes when blue met green and she leaned in as tenderly as she could, without being clumsy and falling, and pressed her lips to the blonde girl's.

It was a surprise, for both of them, because they had never expected Sakura to be the one to initiate anything. Ino was the bossy loudmouth, Ino was the controlling one, Ino was the dominate in this scenario.

Both girls blushed and though they kept their gaze locked, neither could find the words to say anything. Taking the lead again, the pink-haired girl took the other by the hand and lead her to the most fearsome piece of furniture in that entire room at that moment: the bed.

Sakura sat down, still holding Ino's eyes with her own, smiled a crooked little smile and patted the bed beside her. Ino did as she was told, and sat down. "Are you scared?" she said finally, her voice sounding a little more shaky than reassuring.

"A little," Sakura admitted, her voice equally wobbly.

"Me too," Ino whispered, taking Sakura's hands and entwining them with her own.  
Their lips met again. Short and chaste, then they parted. "I'm glad," Sakura murmured.

"Why?" Ino returned, kissing the tip of Sakura's ear, parting her lips a little to let her tongue brush the skin.

"Because at least we feel the same," the other girl said, turning her head so that their necks were tangled with each other's, like giraffes.

Ino brushed Sakura's hair out of her eyes. "I suppose we do," she murmured.

Sakura smiled, and lifted her now free hands to pull the elastic out of Ino's ponytail. "You wear your hair up all the time," she whispered.

She pulled at the loose strands of blonde hair, making them cascade into Ino's eyes. "You look better with it down," the older girl whispered, dragging her counterpart down on top of her.

- - - - - - - - - - -

When he thought about it, Naruto could remember quite clearly the memories that often seemed too far away to grasp, lost in the mists of his youthful unawareness.

He had been only three when his father had left- died, as he knew now. He could remember a few days, when the sky had been bright and sunny, and he would toddle out the front door of their home, which was a small house, almost like a cottage, to greet his daddy, who had just come home from work.

He remembered how he'd been swept up in strong arms and tossed up toward the wild blue yonder, squealing with laughter, feeling like a bird or a butterfly, before gravity took hold and he fell back to the ground. Before he could hit the ground however, those arms caught him again and laughing, father and son would head toward the door, where mother was waiting.

One day, however, those arms didn't catch him.

He knew something was wrong, he had known, and known it all along. Every day, those arms seemed to get a little weaker, until one day, they couldn't catch him, and they let him fall. He'd been cut and bruised all over, and he'd never been held in those arms again. They were too weak to keep him safe.

Eyes grew dull, like the blue sky grows pale in winter, and the face became drawn and thin, and as white as fresh new snow. The body was wasting away, and with it, the man, and one day, his father left and he didn't come back.

Naruto didn't remember a funeral, he didn't remember his mother crying, or anything like that. She seemed to be sad, however, and whenever he'd tried to hug her about the legs, because he was too short to do anymore, she'd pushed him away, and covered her eyes, saying that it hurt her to look at him.

At first he wondered what she meant by that, because she had never said he was ugly. In fact, before his father had gone away, she'd called him the most beautiful little boy in the world. So why did it hurt her to look at him?

And every day it seemed to get worse, until she wouldn't stand to be in the same room with him and locked him up inside his room all day, or sent him outside to play.

One day, she had called him inside from his play outside. He had wondered if something was wrong, or if something had happened, so he came as quickly as his short little legs would let him. She had put his coat on him and given him his teddy bear, and she'd picked up a small bag, which he could only presume had held his belongings.

He had asked her where they were going, and she had told him they were going for a walk to meet some new friends. Cheerfully, he had gone along, all the while believing that he would return home with her. He realized later that her belated getting rid of him had been due to the tricky process of legally giving up a child to adoption.

On the way, as they drew closer to their destination, he noticed that she was crying and had asked her, innocently, as only a three-year-old can, "Mommy, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," she'd said. "This is as hard for me as it is for you. Please try to understand."

She'd hugged him tightly, and then they'd continued, with not another word passing between them. They'd entered a building, and there, they'd met another grown-up, and the grown-up and his mommy had proceeded to talk about grown-up things.

Then the other grown-up had squatted down and offered him his hand. "Are you Uzumaki Naruto?" he asked in a gentle voice.

He had nodded shyly and the man had taken his hand and said, "I'm very glad to meet you."

They had been taken by the man to a big room, full of lots of kids, who were playing and colouring and laughing. He remembered how much he'd wanted to join in the fun. He didn't know what was going on.

His mother had hugged him again and told him to be a good boy, and to play nice, and so on and so forth. Then she had stood up and waved goodbye to him, and turned her back.

He'd called to her, asked her where she was going, but she just kept walking away, without so much as a backward glance, lest she regret what she was doing.

He'd screamed at her, and he was crying, because he was scared, and he wanted his mommy to come back and protect him, just in case the bigger kids here were mean. He didn't realize that everyone had stopped and was looking at him now.

He'd asked for his mother every half-an-hour or so, tugging on the teachers' skirts, asking when she was coming back. They'd just patted him on the head and smiled, almost sadly, saying "Soon."

When nighttime came and his mother hadn't returned, he was worried. He'd asked more persistently. Still, he only got the same answer. He'd grown tired of play a long time ago, now more worried about going home than having fun. He sat at one of the colouring tables, alone, and dejected, hugging his teddy bear tight.

When he'd been tucked into bed that night, he'd still be holding his teddy. When he was sure that the other children were fast asleep, he'd tried to comfort his teddy bear, his voice sounding cold and unyielding in the empty rooms. "Don't worry," he'd whispered to the stuffed toy. "Mommy will come back soon. She hasn't forgot us."

He'd eventually cried himself to sleep, his teddy bear never answering him, and never changing the melancholy expression that had been sewn onto his face.

In the morning, he'd asked for his mother again, and this time the nurse didn't say soon, but merely remained silent. When he persisted, she told him to be a good boy and eat his breakfast, and not to ask anymore questions.

He'd nearly started crying, but he'd stuffed his mouth full of the gruel they called porridge, and chomped down hard on his tears. He had to be strong, for his mommy, and for his teddy bear. They needed him.

When the nurse had left the room, one of the older kids had sneered at him, "You can quit your snivelling. Your mommy ain't ever coming back."

He'd stared in horror at the other child, his eyes wide with shock. He'd swallowed the mouthful he'd nearly choked on and said, "No," with such conviction that he almost believed it.

The older kid - he forgot his name now - had laughed at him, and said, "Yes."

That one word had condemned him to the life where all the parentless children had played day in and day out, all the while with huge grins plastered on their faces. It seemed that the kids had almost been brainwashed to act that way, to hide their sorrow and continue playing.

He eventually adopted their ways, and the huge grin was oft still plastered on his features 'til this day.

He had watched children come and go, one by one, and he had eventually given up on learning their names, and making friends, because they all went away in the end. They left him alone, never to return, and never once did they look back at him, just as his mother had before them.  
One year, and then two, and slowly, all he remembered was playing, and all he knew was a few jumbled faces. The nurses changed too, some quitting and leaving, others being hired to take their stead.

There were volunteers too, and during the summer when he was five, before he turned six, a man named Umino Iruka had volunteered and helped out with the running of the orphanage. Iruka had been an elementary school teacher, and he'd just been let go from his old job. He was in Konoha now, and he was going to work at the local high school, teaching music.

Iruka had been nice enough to him, but he was too wary now of people getting close to him, then leaving. He was well aware that once the school year started, whenever that was, Iruka was going to leave again and he'd have lost another friend.

Iruka was a persistent pest, and when September rolled around, as expected, Iruka disappeared. However, it came as a great surprise, when the brunet man returned nearly every evening during September, even after a long day at work.

The greatest surprise was just before the blond boy's birthday. Iruka had returned, just like every other evening, but this time, he was waving a paper. And in a startled moment, Iruka had told Naruto that he was going home.

At first, Naruto had thought Iruka meant that he was going home to his mother, and he wasn't really sure he wanted to go and see her, not after she had left him all alone for so long. It took a moment or two for him to realize that Iruka meant that he was going to Iruka's home - to his new home.

He would never return to his old home, with his mother. It had dawned on him then, and sent him into bittersweet tears. He cried for the loss of something dear and beloved, but also for the chance of leaving, of going home.

Everything else beyond that was history.

_Smack_!

The blond boy snapped back to reality and glared at Sasuke, who merely looked at him in that 'I'm-annoyed-at-you-watch-me-be-annoyed-because-I'm-cute-when-I'm-annoyed' way of his.

"What?"Naruto cried, rubbing the spot on his head where Sasuke had smacked him.

The dark-haired boy shrugged. "You zoned out," he said, rather nonchalantly.

Naruto glared. "It's midnight. I'm allowed to zone out."

Sasuke glared. "I really would appreciate it if you didn't zone out right after we have sex. It makes me feel rather. . .boring."

"You are boring," Naruto countered, rolling over in a huff. "You're acting like a girl. We're guys. We sleep after we screw. So shut up and sleep."

Sasuke sighed and rolled over, so that his back was to Naruto. "You're such a pain."

_Bam_!

Both boys sat up in a flash, staring at the door, where there was a muddled heap that one might have called OrochimaruandItachi, which had to be said like that, because at the moment, one was not distinguishable from the other.

They were having a rather hushed argument between themselves. Naruto looked at Sasuke and Sasuke looked at Naruto and both looked over at the heap on the floor and deadpanned. Sasuke sighed and said, "What the hell are you two doing in here?"

Orochimaru had successfully detached himself from Itachi at that point, though he was still sitting on the other boy. "Well," he said, his eyes flashing in the dark and making Sasuke shiver. "The brat's in our room, so we were wondering if we could crash in here. Wouldn't want to disturb the brat's beauty sleep, eh?"

"So you can disturb ours?" Naruto questioned, looking stupefied.

Itachi made a muffled sound into the carpet, and dug his nails into Orohimaru's leg, signifying he couldn't breathe.

Sasuke deadpanned again. "Get out," he said blandly. "Now."

Both boys in the bed gave a startled jump when they found a third settled in their midst. Orochimaru slung an arm over either boy's shoulder. "Aw, c'mon. There's room enough in the bed."

Naruto and Sasuke just stared at him. Itachi was still on the floor, thanking heaven for the wonders of oxygen.

"Get out of my bed," Sasuke growled and pointed at the door.

Orochimaru stuck his tongue out at the younger boy and flopped down onto the pillow. "So, what you two been up to? Been busy?"

"You're not leaving, are you?" Sasuke said, feeling slightly annoyed.

Orochimaru shook his head and grinned. Sasuke sighed and hung his head. "Why me?" he groaned.  
Orochimaru leaned over the moping boy, deliberately pressing against the younger as hard as he could and waved at Itachi. "You-who! Itachi-dearest! We're all up here you know, so you can come and join the party anytime!"

Itachi glared at him, and funnily enough, so did Sasuke. Orochimaru backed off the younger Uchiha, retreating. One Uchiha glaring was bad enough. Both of them was terrifying. He turned to Naruto. "So, Foxy! How are you!"

Naruto just blinked. "Foxy?" he asked dumbly.

Orochimaru sighed in almost defeat. He wasn't going to get anywhere like this, was he?

He flopped back on the bed, taking Sasuke and Naruto with him. Both boys cried out in annoyance. "What the hell is your problem?" Naruto yelped.

"Get lost!" Sasuke cried.

Orochimaru just grinned.

He ruffled Sasuke's already mussed hair. "Oy, Short Stuff! You weren't too unwilling last time!"

"Last time?" Naruto said, glaring across the older boy at his boyfriend.

Sasuke went red in the face. "When. . .you. . .were. . .um. . .sick.."

Naruto's glare increased tenfold. "You've been cheating on me?" he growled.

"I wouldn't go so far as to say it was cheating," Sasuke started, trying to defend himself. He'd been hoping that Naruto would never find out about that and it would just sort of fade into the darkness of oblivion.

He glared at Orochimaru as if saying, in the most sarcastic voice he could muster, "Thanks."

The older boy just grinned in return.

The argument was interrupted by something falling across their legs. Itachi rolled his eyes at them. "Oh, shut up, and get it over with," he growled, lighting the cigarette that had mysteriously found its way into his mouth.

They all stared at the normally reclusive Uchiha for a moment. Naruto finally cried, "Hey! No smoking in the house!"

Sasuke deadpanned. "I didn't know you smoked anyway."  
Orochimaru took the thing out of his boyfriend's mouth, snarling, "You're not supposed to smoke that until after we have sex."

Sasuke and Naruto shuddered at the mental image.

Itachi shrugged and rolled over, making all three of them wince. Despite his frame, the elder Uchiha was heavy. "I don't see anyone having sex here," he said, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

As the three boys later found out, Itachi was incredibly flexible, given his age and the fact the most boys generally did not bend very well. Surprisingly enough, Itachi was the catalyst, with his mouth on Sasuke's toes, his left hand wandering up and down Orochimaru's leg, and his own leg rubbing against Naruto's. Talk about multi-tasking.

The three boys shared a rather bewildered look, utterly surprised by the elder Uchiha's behaviour. Sasuke glared at Orochimaru and hissed, "What did you give him?"

Orochimaru shrugged, trying to look innocent. "I have no clue."

Sasuke shook his head in dismay, covering his face with his hands. "You drugged him, but you don't know what you drugged him with!"

"I didn't drug him!"

Itachi sat up, and Naruto and Sasuke thanked the Lord, because they could finally feel their feet again. Orochimaru, however, wasn't pleased with his boyfriend's new position. The elder Uchiha had his arms crossed and was glaring at Orochimaru. "You three are no fun," he grumbled, pouting.

"We're no fun?"

Orochimaru and Naruto both looked incredibly insulted. Sasuke just looked incredibly embarrassed. He had the 'I don't believe this is my brother' look on his face.

To his left, Orochimaru and Naruto were plotting, he could tell. There was a moment of confused movement, and Sasuke found himself at the top of the heap, with Naruto on top of Orochimaru, who was on top of his brother, who was pinned to the bed.

Itachi was squirming incessantly, which obviously wasn't helping Orochimaru's cause. Surprisingly enough, it took all three of them to hold Itachi down. Orochimaru tried to sit up, forgetting he had two boys on his back.

Naruto fell off the bed, and landed with a _whump _on top of Sasuke, who suddenly found it very hard to breathe. "He had vodka," Orochimaru reported. "And I forget what I put in the vodka, but I put something in it."  
Itachi giggled stupidly, which was a very, very, very scary thing. Sasuke was ready to head for the hills, but Naruto was still dazed on top of him.

"Orochimaru," Itachi was saying now, his voice having gone back to its normal pitch, thankfully. "Fuck the blond."

Naruto was up in a flash. "What?" he screamed, staring at the older Uchiha, who had dissolved into another bout of school-girlish giggles.

Orochimaru just stared.

"No, wait," Itachi gasped, having recovered from his laughter. "I want you to fuck the blond while he fucks me."

"What's wrong with you?" Naruto squealed, clinging to Sasuke's arm for dear life.

Sasuke tried his best to be invisible and hoped that Itachi would forget about him. "And little brother, I want you to fuck Orochimaru."

"No," Sasuke hissed through gritted teeth, surprised to hear Orochimaru admonish the act too.

Itachi frowned. He yanked hard on Orochimaru's hair, then clambered over him, glaring at Sasuke. "Do it bitch," the older boy growled, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Blondie!" he barked, rounding on Naruto. "Get over here!"

Naruto did as he was told, looking regretfully back at Sasuke. The younger Uchiha watched in disgust as his brother kissed Naruto, crushing his face against Naruto's, bruising their lips for sure.

The older boy dragged them downward, until his back met the mattress, keeping Naruto still by locking an arm about his head and keeping him silent by keeping their mouths pressed together.

Orochimaru threw Sasuke an apologetic look, while the younger boy just glared at him impassively. He couldn't believe this was happening. . .

"Sasuke!" was the barking command from his brother, who he couldn't see because of the tangle of bodies above him.

Sighing, and knowing better than to disobey his older brother, the younger clambered onto the bed, sure he was about to meet his demise.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -  
Six a.m. mist was something most unpleasant, Hyuuga Neji had decided. Beside him, his cousin Hinata had her arms wrapped about her. She was shivering, though she had refused to complain.

Neji placed a hand gently on her shoulder. He disliked the girl, but he couldn't really be cruel to her right now, not when she'd just spent the entire night searching the streets of Konoha with him. They were looking for TenTen, even though the police were as well.

"Let's head back," he said softly, recognising that they were both tired, hungry and cold. They had searched most of Konoha, and there wasn't really much more they could do, except for wait and hope that the girl was okay when she was found.

Hinata nodded curtly, her breath rising into the cold air. Neji turned away, walking back down the alley, retracing their footsteps, which were still visible in the snow. It took him moment to realize that he couldn't hear the sound of Hinata's shoes, and he whipped around to see if he could find her, but she was gone.

He stared at the misty alley behind him, eyes wide. "Hinata!" he called, irritated with his cousin. Wasn't she more mature than this?

There was no answer. "Hinata!" he called again. "This isn't funny!"

Still, the mist was silent.

"Hinata!" he cried, running back to where he'd left her, the mist thinning as he went. There was no trace of her, except her foot prints in the snow.

- - - - - - - - -

Shikamaru grumbled. He hated being up at six a.m. He hated misty mornings. He hated snow. He hated having to dig his parents' car out of the snowbank so they could go see his annoying grandparents for the holiday. He hated holidays. He hated hating so many things. It was incredibly troublesome.

He sighed, ditching his shovel in the snowbank. "How troublesome," he murmured.

Just at that moment, a figure clad all in green came jogging by. He recognized it to be Lee, who was ever energetic. Only Lee would go jogging at six a.m. on a misty winter holiday morning. He prayed the loser-ish boy didn't stop.

Too bad for Shikamaru, as Lee did stop. It seemed that the gods didn't like the lazy boy much. "Good morning, Shikamaru!" Lee cried, waving enthusiastically.

Shikamaru sighed. "Good morning Lee," he murmured. How troublesome.

Lee was jogging on the spot. "You haven't seen Sakura yet, have you?"  
Shikamaru could barely believe that Lee was so incredibly persistent. He supposed it went with the high energy warning that should have come on the green-clad boy. "No," he replied. "Generally, most people don't get up at six a.m. on a holiday."

This was so troublesome.

Lee frowned. "Why ever not? You're wasting the youthful day!"

Shikamaru would have wondered if that sentence made any sense, if he could have been bothered to think about it. Thinking was too troublesome.

"Ah! Well, I'll be on my way!" Lee said, starting to jog away. "I'll see you when we get back to school!"

And with that, Lee was gone, and Shikamaru could only be. . .bothered. Lee was so bothersome. He was going back to bed.

- - - - - - - - - - -

At six forty-three in the empty Uchiha household, the phone rang. It rang several times, until the answering machine finally picked up. However, its message was wasted, as whoever had been on the other end of the line hung up, figuring that their message was too important for a machine.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Gaara was roused from his unrestful sleep by a persistent knocking on the door. He sighed and hauled himself from his bed, and to the door, rubbing at his eyes.

"What do you want?" he growled, without really looking at who was standing on his doorstep.

"Long time, no see Gaara," said a voice, that he recognized instantly, and he bolted awake and stared at his visitor.

For the first time in his life, he stuttered. "T-t. . ."

- - - - - - - -

He was glad to be back in Konoha. Though he had only been there once before, when he was very small, he had liked the place a lot more than he had liked his own home in Kiri. There was a war being fought there now, and for some reason, people thought that it was not right that he fight for his own country.

So, here he was in Konoha, wandering the streets. He had once had relatives here, or so he thought, but he wasn't sure where they were now. They might have moved away, or died for all he knew.

Hoshigaki Kisame was in Konoha.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -


	19. Dammit

(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Remember, if you're reading, please review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters. I also forgot to mention that the lemon scenes that fit into Chapter 18 can be found on my website. See my profile for the link.)

And the Beat Goes On

Chapter 19: Dammit

Hinata had only been to this part of town once or twice, but she thought she knew her way around fairly well. She was near where Kiba lived, that much she knew for sure, and she guessed she was pointing herself in the right direction.

She stopped in front of a small, gray building, which was even more desolate in the dullness of the weather. Feeling nervous, and even more shy than she normally was, she took a few hesitant steps toward the wreck, then closed her eyes and ploughed inside.

The building was small, and that was the first thing she realized. It was poorly heated, and the cold crept everywhere. A long set of stairs spiralled upwards, and that was all she could see. The walls were painted a disgusting shade of green, and the paint was peeling in some places.

Feeling a little shaky, she headed up the stairs. They creaked and groaned under her weight, and she half expected them to give out and let her fall into the basement. She hated basements. She set her foot on the top step, walking onto the second level of this tiny, forgotten place.

She walked down the dreary hallway, looking at the worn bronze numbers emblazoned on the numerous doors that lined either side of the hall. Nervously, she pressed her index fingers together, occasionally digging one of her nails into the flesh underneath the other as hard as she could.

She finally stopped in front of room 306, and she stood there, looking at that number, trying to decide whether or not to knock. Finally, she lifted her hand, and, despite her shaking limbs, rapped her knuckles against the cheap grain of wood, nearly coming away with several splinters.

Silence followed. She kept glancing at the door, then looking back at the floor, waiting for someone to answer the door. Hesitantly, not wanting to seem persistent or impatient, she knocked again.

This time, she heard someone moving within the apartment, and she nearly fainted in nervous relief. At least she knew someone was there, but now she had to face embarrassment if it wasn't the person she was looking for. 

At last, the door opened, and a rumpled young woman opened the door, trying her best not to rub at her tired eyes or yawn. "What do you want?" she asked, and her voice was just as tired as she looked.

Hinata smiled almost nervously. "Uh, yes. I'm. . .I'm.. . . l-looking for TenTen," she managed, her voice starting into its trademark stutter.

The girl blinked, then moved aside. "She's in the kitchen," the older girl said, gesturing for Hinata to enter.

The shy Hyuuga girl walked into the dingy apartment, taking off her shoes at the doorway, then continuing on her way to the tiny, crammed kitchenette.

True to what she'd been told, TenTen was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking orange juice and munching on a bit of dry toast. Hinata jabbed her index fingers together again. "Ah, TenTen," she started, making the girl jump and look up at her.

"Hinata?" she asked, then looked slightly angry. "What are you doing here?"

The younger girl looked at the ground. "Neji. . .was looking for you. And. . .I-I thought I m-might find you here. . ."

The older girl looked around wildly. "Neji's not here, is he?" she cried, the thought of her boyfriend seeming to frighten her.

Hinata furrowed her brow at the curious action. "Um.. . .no, he's n-n-ot. . .W-why did you leave? Everybody's worried about you." 

The brown-eyed girl sighed and slumped over the table, resting her head on her hand. "Well, it's kinda. . ."

She trailed off, staring into blank space. Hinata waited for moment or two, before saying, softly, "Kinda what?"

"Difficult," TenTen finished, standing up with a sigh.

She left her half uneaten breakfast sitting on the table, walking out the room, running her hands through her hair in frustration. "I still don't believe it myself," she murmured as she walked by.

Hinata hesitated, before following the girl down the hall, toward her bedroom. The elder stopped before they reached there, however, sighing loudly, and slumping against the wall. "I just don't understand," she murmured, seeming slightly lost and even a bit out of it.

"What happened?" Hinata asked, hesitantly reaching out to put her hand on the older girl's shaking shoulder.

"Oh!" the girl said, biting her lip, in an attempt not to start crying. She was silent for a moment or two, looking for the right words to express herself. " . . .I'm. . .pregnant."

"Oh,"was all Hinata could say, and then she stared dumbly at TenTen, trying to think of what to do or say next in this situation.

She couldn't find what to say or do. TenTen turned to her, her eyes begging and pleading. "Please, please. Don't tell Neji. Don't tell anybody."

Hinata frowned. "But. . .everyone's so worried about you. And. . .what will you do once you have the baby? You can't come back with a baby. What will people think? And you certainly can't stay here -"

"I'm not having the baby," the older girl said decisively.

"What do you mean?" Hinata asked, dumbfounded. "You said you were -"

"I'm not having the baby. I'm having an abortion."

Hinata felt faint. She was appalled. "Y-you can't!" she cried, her stuttering out of anger, rather than fear or shyness. "That's. . .that's cruel!"

"So is bringing something into the world that you can't take care of."

Hinata stomped her foot on the floor. "You can't, TenTen! You just can't! I'm. . .I'll tell Neji!"

She turned to leave. TenTen grabbed her by the arm, holding her fast. "You can't tell him!" she hissed. "You can't tell anybody!"

The Hyuuga girl, with determination set on her features, did something very unexpected. She raised her hand and slapped the older girl. Hard. TenTen let go of her in surprise. She clutched at the wall, feeling tears of desperation burn in her eyes. "Please," she whispered, holding her cheek.

Hinata was crying too. "I'm. . .I'm sorry, TenTen! I really am! But. . .I just can't let you do that! I can't! It's not right, and it's not fair - to anybody!"

"Don't, don't tell him, please," TenTen begged, but Hinata was done listening.

"I'm sorry, TenTen," she whispered. "I have to."

- - - - - - - - - - - -

"T-t. . .Temari," Gaara practically stuttered, staring his older sister in the eye.

The blonde girl smiled at him. "Good morning, Gaara," she said. "I didn't think you'd be up so early. Mother sent me to check up on you."

The girl breezed by him into the apartment. She dropped her duffel bag by the door, but failed to remove her snowy shoes. "You know, she worries about you," she said, turning back, clasping her hands and making the most mocking face Gaara had ever seen her make.

The red-head glared at her. "Get lost," he growled. "I don't need you breathing down my neck."

She shrugged and flopped down on the ancient sofa that had been in the apartment before Gaara had been. "Doesn't matter to me. I need to know if you've found that. . .what's-his-name kid. . . yet."

"Uzumaki," Gaara said, quietly, sounding a little bitter.

Temari waved her hand. "Yeah! That kid. Mom's getting worse- keeps asking for him."

Gaara crossed his arms and just looked sulky. "Yeah, I f-"

"Oh, what are these?" Temari asked suddenly, picking up the half empty box of cigarettes. "You smoke? Naughty, naughty Gaara," she chided.

Gaara growled. "What I do is my business. Get out of apartment."

Again, the blonde girl shrugged. "You're obviously not doing a good job, Gaara. I mean, you were supposed to find that kid weeks ago. What's taking so long?"

"We ran into. . .a couple of problems."

Temari raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Like what?"

Gaara shrugged, not wishing to reveal what had been going on since he'd arrived in the city. "It doesn't really matter, Temari."

The girl frowned, but said nothing more. They were silent for a moment or two, and the silence was both heavy and terse. It was obvious that neither sibling liked each other very much. Finally, Gaara gave, sighing, and walked by her toward the kitchen, muttering, "Would you like something to eat?" in the most bored tone he could muster.

- - - - - - - - -

He couldn't move. He was pinned to the bed, and by what, he didn't know. He was trying to remember what the hell had happened, and what the hell he'd gone to bed with because this was too heavy for Orochimaru, but his mind was fuzzy, and thinking was making his head hurt, which in turn, was making him sick.  
Outside, the cheerful sun glittered off the snow, making the world unbearably bright, especially to someone as hung-over as Uchiha Itachi was at that very moment. Something slapped him in the face and he blinked in surprise, feeling the throb of being hit, in a slightly delayed reaction.

Trying not to strain his eyes, as they hurt enough already, but unable to turn his head to the side for fear of being sick, he glanced sideways at whatever had hit him. 

That blond kid, Naruto, his brother's boyfriend, was tangled in the sheets, snoring loudly. What was worse, the blond was completely naked. Itachi shifted a little, confirming what he was fearing the most at that moment. He was naked too.

He did the only sensible thing that any naked, hung-over teenager who is suspecting that they just slept with their brother's boyfriend, but were too drunk to remember, could do. He screamed. Then, deciding that wasn't solution enough, he scrambled out from whatever was pinning him down, still screaming, and scrambled right off the bed, dragging a sheet with him.

He landed with a rather ungraceful _thunk _on the floor. This was a brilliant start to the day. 

Sleepily, someone peered over Orochimaru, who had been lying on top of him, and blinked stupidly. Itachi grimaced as he realized that person was Sasuke. The younger boy rubbed at his eyes, and yawned, murmuring, "What's wrong?"

Itachi was speechless. The two brothers sat there and stared at each other for several minutes, just blinking stupidly. Itachi turned to the side and retched. Sasuke winced, then toppled over as Orochimaru, whom he'd been using as a pillow, shifted, and woke up.

The older boy yawned and opened an eye. "What's with all the yelling?" he grumbled, and from his tone of voice, it was obvious he wasn't a morning person.

Sasuke had landed with a thump on something hard, which happened to be Naruto's shin. He winced, and waited for the blond boy to wake up, but he didn't. He sighed. Naruto could sleep through a tornado.

Orochimaru was on the floor, with his arm about Itachi, trying to get the hung-over one to be rational. Itachi was having a panic moment, and his voice was rising as he ranted on and on and on, which was odd because Itachi normally didn't say much at all.

"What's with all the yelling!" came a rather high-pitched voice from across the hall and all the boys froze, except Naruto who kept on snoring. There was a scamper of feet on the hardwood floor outside the door and both Sasuke and Orochimaru were at the door, trying to barricade it, and shouting at Konohamaru to stay out, and not to come in, and so on and so forth.

Itachi nearly fainted when he realized that both his boyfriend and his brother were naked as well. And they'd been sleeping in the same bed. Dammit, why couldn't he remember what had happened!  
"Uh.. . .what did we do last night?" he asked, staring blankly at the wall.

"Well, you were being quite domineering," Orochimaru started with a sly smirk.

"You were drunk," Sasuke added, expression deadpan.

"And, well, you decided it would be fun to have a foursome," Orochimaru finished.

"While you were drunk," Sasuke added, his face still stoic.

"I know I was drunk!" Itachi snapped at his brother, then glared, and turned to look at Orochimaru. "A foursome!"

Both boys, yes, even Sasuke, though the question was not addressed to him, nodded.

Itachi felt a little funny, like he was going to faint or something. He scrambled back to the bed, lest he should do something completely un-Itachi like and faint.

Orochimaru and Sasuke just stood there for a moment, before realizing they were completely exposed. Sasuke dove for the bed, doing a rather messy job as he landed of wrapping himself up in both the sheet Itachi had, and the one Naruto had. Orochimaru just grinned.

The door opened, and that sent the oldest boy running for the bed too, diving behind the other three, in a desperate attempt to hide himself as there were no more sheets. Konohamaru peered into the room, still giggling. He'd thought they were having a fight.

Three out of four of the older boys stared at him blankly. He blinked, then stopped laughing and said, "Hey, how come you're all naked?"

They just stared at him more. He squealed in horror and took off running. "Uncle Iruka! Uncle Iruka!" he squealed and the boys in the bedroom shared a petrified look.

Naruto finally woke up. "Hey," he murmured, still half-asleep. "What's with all the noise?" 

"Naruto!" Iruka's voice shouted at them from down the hall.

"Oh shit," the blond said, his eyes widening.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Konohamaru cowered near the door, slightly afraid of his uncle.

Iruka had flown into a murderous rage. "Oh, I'll. . .I'll throttle them! I'll cut them open and string them up by their intestines!"  
His hands opened and closed, clenching around some invisible opponent's neck. 

Konohamaru seemed to realize something then. "Uncle Iruka! You're naked too!" he cried, clapping a hand over his mouth in mute horror.

Iruka looked down, wondering how the little imp knew, but found he was sufficiently covered. He went crimson, all the way up to his ears. "That doesn't matter!" he barked.

"And so is Kakashi!" Konohamaru chirped. "How come everyone's naked except for me!"

"Please," Iruka said, making a face. "Keep your pyjamas on, Konohamaru."

There was silence in the master bedroom for a moment, before Konohamaru said, almost shyly, "So, are you gonna go murder Naruto now?"

"Yes!" Iruka yelled, and made as if to get out of the bed.

Kakashi threw something at him, and it hit him square in the face. Iruka peeled the offending item off his face, looking confused, while Konohamaru dissolved into helpless laughter.

Iruka glared at Kakashi. The silver-haired man shrugged. "I just thought it might make a better presentation if you went charging in there somewhat clothed. . ."

Iruka sighed. This was going to be a long weekend. . .

- - - - - - - - - -

Lee was just coming back from his morning jog when he saw both Ino and Sakura emerge from the Yamanaka household. They were both dressed for the weather, with heavy coats, and mittens and scarves wrapped about their necks. They had two pairs of skates with them.

"Morning girls!" he called waving, winking at Sakura, who glanced at Ino nervously. The blonde girl seemed to shrug it off.

"Morning Lee," Ino called back, giving him a little wave with her left hand as her right hand was. . .

Lee nearly fainted. Ino was holding Sakura's hand! Holding it!

In all the time he'd known either girl, he'd never seen them hold hands. That they were doing it now could only lead him to one conclusion and that was a bad thing. His beloved Sakura couldn't. . .

How could he be her knight in shining armour if she was?  
He gaped, like a fish out of water, watching as they walked away, heading toward the park, where every year, an ice rink was set up.

Noting that Shikamaru was still outside, sitting in a snowbank, having ditched his shovel, deeming it too much work to shovel the driveway, Lee jogged over to the other boy, and tried to start a conversation.

"Shikamaru -"

"Go away," the Nara boy said, looking at him, bored. "You're troublesome."

"Did you see Sakura and Ino!" 

Shikamaru shook his head. He'd had his back turned the whole time, staring at the neighbour's dog, who was contemplating trying to make the snow on Shikamaru's front lawn turn yellow. 

Lee ploughed on. "They were holding hands!"

The younger boy shrugged, not really caring about whatever Lee was blathering about now. "So? Girls tend to be more. . ."

He waved his hand and looked at Lee, as though he was willing him to go away. Lee sighed. "Sakura and Ino have never held hands before. Why should they start now?"

Shikamaru flopped back in his snowbank and stared at the cloudy sky. "Why should I know? Now, stop bothering me."

Lee shrugged, seeing that Shikamaru wasn't going to be much help, and continued on his way.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Kiba glanced around the corner, letting the phone ring, and ring and ring. He kept glancing back over his shoulder, checking lest his parental should decide she needed to use the telephone. So far, no sign of her.

Finally someone picked up. A very small, girlish voice said, "Hello?"

He nearly jumped at the sound, and cleared his throat nervously. "Um, hi. Is Hinata there?"

He could practically hear the little girl shaking her head on the other end of the phone. "No, she's not."

"Oh," the dark-haired boy said, putting his foot on his puppy's head to make sure he didn't run off anywhere. The last time he'd taken his eyes off Akamaru, he'd ended up in the garbage, looking for something to eat. "Could you tell her to call Kiba when she gets in?"

"Nope."

He almost swore there was a smirk in whoever had answered the phone's voice. "Huh? Why not?"

"She's not allowed to talk to you. Papa said so."

And with that, and without so much as a goodbye, the phone was hung up and Kiba was faced with the dial tone. He sighed and hung up the phone. Great. Hinata wasn't supposed to talk to him. He could only imagine why not.

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

Itachi was roused from his much needed sleep, early Tuesday morning, by a persistent knocking at the front door. Groggily, he sat up, and looked around, trying to find his housecoat, a pair of underwear and a shirt, anything. No such luck.

He glanced at the time. If that was any damn sales person at his door at six a.m., heads were going to roll. He kicked Orochimaru on his way out of bed, purposely of course, just to be spiteful. If he had to get up, so did everyone else.

They'd gotten back from Iruka's cabin late last night, after Konohamaru had nearly broken his neck and they'd had to come home. They had the rest of the week to screw around and do nothing, and Itachi had been planning to sleep in, but noooo. . . 

He threw on a pair of boxers that appeared to be clean, only to find they weren't his. The knocking was getting louder and more frequent. He grumbled and threw on his robe, which had been lying under a pile of dirty clothes. Trying to hold Orochimaru's underwear to his frame, he wrapped himself in the housecoat and headed downstairs, grumbling about people.

Orochimaru just rolled over and went on sleeping.

Itachi wished he had brought his slippers, because the floor was freezing. Another reason he hated winter. Everything was cold. Freezing. He'd have given anything to be warm, instead of letting the blood in his feet freeze. 

Whoever was out there was still knocking and he was now sure that this wasn't any damn sales person, because they would have given up long ago. He padded across the floor, and dreaded opening the door to the cold outdoors.

Too bad for him. Whoever was out there was laying on the doorbell now, and kicking at the door too, or at least, that's what it sounded like. "What the hell do you want!" he partially screamed, flinging open the door, and glaring like there was no tomorrow.  
A wooden cane was pushed dangerously close to his face, and waggled threateningly. "Respect your elders!" a short, elderly woman, who'd been holding the cane, scolded, then hobbled by him into the house.

All he could do was blink in surprise. To his left, a young, dark-haired woman smiled, almost apologetically. "Uh, you'll have to excuse Grandmother, Itachi. She's very cranky without her medicine." 

"Uh," was all the Uchiha boy could say. Finally, he pointed and said, "Do I know you?"

The woman blinked her red eyes and looked almost insulted. "Why, you idiot, I'm your aunt. Kurenai, remember?"

He could only look slightly confused, before she said, "Never mind. Let me in, it's damn cold, and Gran has to take her medicine."

She brushed by him, into the house, calling, "Gran! Gran!"

Itachi shut the door, looking completely befuddled. "What the fuck," he muttered, walking away from the entrance, back into the house, where it was actually semi-warm.

What the hell were his relatives doing here? His parents had died over seven years ago, and since then, not a damn Uchiha had seen himself and his brother, except each other. And now, his aunt and his great-grandmother were in his house on a holiday at six fucking a.m and. . .

Oh fucking no.

He dashed up the stairs, driven by a sudden anxiety of his relatives - especially his old, senile, half-blind and cranky great-grandmother finding out what - who - was in his room. He remembered his great-grandmother somewhat, now that he was thinking about it, and he knew that she was very, very old fashioned.

She'd have words if she found out that he was sleeping with another guy. Willingly sleeping with another guy. Fuck, she'd have more than words - there'd be actions.

He slammed the door to his bedroom and locked the door. "You!" he nearly shouted, then remembered that he had to keep his voice down, or his aunt would be up there, asking what was wrong. He remembered Kurenai a bit now, and he knew that she was that type of aunt who was very nosey, and very annoying, but also a better aunt than some, because she was younger, and not as parental.

Orochimaru stayed asleep. Growling, Itachi decided he didn't have time for this and hopped up on the bed and started jumping up and down as hard as he could. Eventually, he managed to nail Orochimaru in the gut.  
The older boy woke with a startled gasp, trying to catch the breath that had just been knocked out of him. Itachi stopped jumping and glared.

Orochimaru glared back at him, then looked down. "Um, Itachi? Why were you wearing my boxers?"

Itachi noticed then that said garments had fallen down, probably during his jumping. "Never mind," he growled. "My aunt and my great-grandmother are here and-"

"You have relatives?" Orochimaru asked, yawning, then looking fascinated.

Itachi sighed. "Yes, and-"

"Cool! When do I get to meet them?"

Itachi grabbed the older boy the shoulders and shook him. "You don't!" he hissed, then looked around, as if the room was bugged or something. "At least, not as Orochimaru."

"What do you mean not as me? Have you lost it? You've completely fucking lost it, haven't you?" 

Itachi shook his head violently. "No!" he hissed. "The old lady's old-fashioned. It's like a religion to her. I can't go down there and tell her I'm sleeping with a guy."

Orochimaru grumbled something.

"Where'd that brat get to?"

As soon as he heard the old woman's voice, seemingly coming closer, Itachi flew into a practical panic.

He was across the room to his closet as fast as he could, and he threw the most feminine top he could find at Orochimaru. "Put that on! Pants - pants - skirt! A skirt would be better!"

Itachi looked desperately around for something he could make a skirt out of, while Orochimaru just watched in utter stupidity. Itachi cursed under his breath and threw something at the other boy. "Pants," he hissed, then paused.

He seemed to be listening for something, and he heard that something he dreaded - the old woman hobbling up the stairs. He grimaced. Goddamnit, he wished he'd had a little sister, instead of a little brother!

He threw two pairs of his socks at his boyfriend. "Down your shirt. Now!"  
Hastily, he found his pocket knife in one of the desk drawers and cut the elastic waistband out of an old pair of pyjama pants he didn't use any more. He threw it at Orochimaru. "Use it as a bra," he hissed. "Those'll fall, and you'll look weird."

He found an extra pair of shoelaces somewhere - he didn't quite remember where afterwards - and grabbed his hairbrush off the dresser and hurtled back to the bed. He roughly brushed out the older boy's black tresses, the shoelaces clenched in his teeth.

He grabbed a handful of black hair and yanked it up into a half pigtail, then bound it up with half of the pair of shoelaces. He repeated the process with the other side.

"There," he practically growled. Orochimaru glared at him. Itachi grimaced. Orochimaru made a very, very ugly girl.

"Ugh, make-up," he muttered, and dragged the other boy out of bed.

He glanced around the hall, then snuck into his parents' bedroom. No one had been in there since their death - neither boy could bear it, and none of their relatives had been around - so he was sure that his mother's make-up, no matter how old and disgusting it might have been, had to be there.

He grabbed some of the make-up from the vanity, and started smearing purple eyeshadow over Orochimaru's eyelids. He could almost hear his mother screaming every known curse at him right then and there.

He grabbed mascara and wrinkled his nose at how clumpy it was, then proceeded with applying it to his boyfriend anyways. He found some lip gloss and smeared it onto the older boy's lips. He then decided to go digging in his mother's jewellery box. He dug out some ancient earrings, then proceeded to try and stick them into his boyfriend's ears.

"Hey!" the older boy protested, pulling away.

Itachi growled and drove them in, managing to pierce the skin. Orochimaru winced, and raised his hand, as if to pull them out. Itachi slapped him. "Leave them alone!" he hissed, then dragged Orochimaru back to his room.

He threw the boy the Cosmo magazine he'd been sensible enough to leave in his room, and Orochimaru deftly caught it, and assumed a rather girly position, pretending to be reading it.

Itachi hastily clothed himself, and tied his hair back. Luckily, just as he finished all this prep work, there came the knock on the door from the old woman, and then it was thrown open and the cranky old lady hobbled in. 

"Well, I've never!" she exclaimed, her face scrunching up. "It's not polite to leave company waiting, young man! Who raised you! Wolves! Where's your mother! I'll set her right!"   
Itachi winced, and Orochimaru saw it, but said nothing.

"Who's this?" the ancient woman demanded, shaking her cane at Orochimaru, who kept thumbing through the magazine, hoping he didn't have to speak.

Itachi paused. Shit. He'd forgotten to think of a name! He nearly tore at his hair in frustration. "Uhm, that's my girlfriend, Gran," he said, glancing back at Orochimaru, tucking his arms behind his back.

"Girlfriend?" the old woman said, leaning forward a bit and squinting. Then, she recoiled in horror. "Gah! Boy, what were you thinking! You're an Uchiha - you can do better! You will do better!"

Orochimaru glared intently at the magazine, pretending it was the old woman and he had laser vision, so he could incinerate her.

"I love her, Gran," Itachi explained, and Orochimaru, under all his makeup, blushed. Itachi had never ever freely admitted to loving him. 

"Huhn. I don't care. She's not going be part of this family, so you'd better smarten up and get yourself a pretty girl." 

Orochimaru muttered something under his breath, coughed and turned a page. Itachi glared. He turned back to his great-grandmother. "Erm, well, nothing really to see here. Let's go downstairs and get breakfast. You must be hungry! I mean, you must have driven all night to get here. . ."

The old woman brushed the teenager's hand off her shoulder and glared. Orochimaru wasn't sure whether to be comforted that the patented Uchiha-glare ran in the family or to be frightened.

"Now, just you wait a minute. You aren't cooking, are you? That's a woman's job. I'll do the cooking around here."

She glared at Orochimaru. "That one there ain't feeding you, obviously. You're so thin. You're a growing boy, you need your nourishment. . .Where's your brother? You're the one with the brother, right?" 

Itachi threw a startled look back at Orochimaru, as the old woman practically pushed him out of the room and herded him to the downstairs.

Orochimaru sniggered.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -  
It was ten o'clock a.m. and the winter wind was brisk, and it burned at Naruto's cheeks. Sasuke had spent last night with him, and this morning, they'd gone skating. Sakura and Ino had too and Naruto had been practically breathless when he'd seen how enthralled the two girls were in each other. They'd held hands tightly, and Sakura had been all smiles.

Naruto wanted that, and he wanted whatever they had done to achieve that. He clung tightly to Sasuke's hand now, cutting off the circulation in both of their hands. He didn't care though. He wanted it, he wanted it, he wanted it. . .

He was so excited that his heart was tripping in his chest when he saw that they were approaching Sasuke's house. Sasuke stopped him and placed a hand to his lips, smiling slightly. "Sh," he whispered. "We'll go in the back way. They're probably still sleeping."

A few minutes later, they were standing at the back door of the massive Uchiha house, while Sasuke fished in his pocket for his key. A moment or two later, they tumbled into the house, still holding hands and giggling lightly.

Sasuke pulled the blond closer to him and tilted his boyfriend's face up, then gently pressed their lips together. He parted Naruto's lips, and slid his tongue into the other boy's mouth. Naruto made a noise indicating gratification and wrapped an arm about Sasuke's neck. The other one snaked down to grabbed Sasuke's ass, making the other boy jump an little bit. They parted, smiling and rubbing their noses together.

Someone cleared their throat. Both boys stopped, smiling instantly, and glanced over, to see four pairs of eyes staring at them. Orochimaru, who was for some unknown reason, masquerading as a girl, simply stared at them. Itachi looked like he was going to die. A red-eyed woman stared at them in something that looked like fear and shock, and an old woman was staring at them with horror and anger written all across her face.

As much as Sasuke wanted to ask who the hell the people in the kitchen were, he felt that this really wasn't the time. 

The appalled old woman stood up, banging her cane against the ground. "Uchiha Sasuke!" she thundered. "What the hell are you doing!"

Sasuke and Naruto hastily disentangled themselves. Sasuke said nothing, but hastily looked at the floor. Itachi sighed and stood up. "Sasuke, this is our great-grandmother," he said, gritting his teeth and glaring at the younger Uchiha.

Sasuke went scarlet, as he realized just the depth of what he'd done. He was going to die, wasn't he?

The woman pointed at Naruto. "Who the hell is he and what the hell were you doing!" she boomed, and Sasuke winced.  
"It's none of your goddamn business!" Naruto roared back, slamming his foot down and pointing right back.

Sasuke grabbed Naruto by the arm, hissing at him, trying to get him under control. Itachi really looked like he wanted to die. The old woman had fire burning in her eyes. "How dare you talk to me like that you. . .you!"

"Aw, shut up, you old hag! You've got no right to tell Sasuke what he can and can't do!"

"Naruto," Sasuke hissed, his voice desperate and angry at the same time.

"You brat!" she cried, then lunged at him, moving surprisingly fast for such an elderly person. 

Sasuke closed his eyes, waiting for the impending carnage, and dragged Naruto out of the way. He ran to the other side of the kitchen, dragging the blond with him. Naruto was rolling up his sleeves. "No!" Sasuke told him firmly.

Naruto just glared at him.

Sasuke turned back to his great-grandmother, sighing. "I'm really sorry," he murmured, unsure of what else to say. 

The elderly woman scowled. "You were kissing him, Sasuke. Kissing him. Are you going to explain that?"

Sasuke toed the floor through his socks. Naruto was silently fuming beside him. When his boyfriend remained silent, the blond spoke up. "It's none of your business what he does. He can kiss who he wants." 

His voice was trembling as he spoke. Sasuke glanced sideways at Naruto, wondering what was wrong. The blond ploughed on. "And. . .if he loves the person that he's kissing, then what right do you have to question it? You can't stop him. So just leave it alone." 

Sasuke watched in wonder as Naruto scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his arm, then turned and fled the room. The dark-haired boy sighed, then went after his boyfriend.

Unfortunately, he left his brother to deal with the old lady. "Itachi!" she howled, and the elder Uchiha boy winced.

"What the hell is wrong with that boy! He's not gay, is he?"

Itachi bit his lip. "Erm. . ."

"He's gay, isn't he? Well, I'll fix that! I won't have him. . .ruin the Uchiha name by. . .doing things like that!"  
"Gran!" Itachi yelped. "Leave it alone! He loves him - just let him be happy!"

"Not while he's soiling the Uchiha name!" the ancient woman cried, and then she stalked out of the room, her cane banging hard against the floor. 

Itachi stared for a moment, then sat down, shaking his head and rubbing his temples. "Shit, shit, shit. . ."

- - - - - - - - - - - -


	20. Messing Around

(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! If you're reading, please remember to review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters. We're half-way to the end of the revisions!)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 20: Messing Around

"Dammit, dammit, dammit!"

Orochimaru watched as Itachi paced the length of the bedroom, tearing at his hair. Itachi was having one of his fits, so he knew better than to say anything, or risk being decapitated.

"I don't believe it! That stupid little! Why! Why did he have to come in the back door! Wasn't front door good enough for him? No. . .let's just walk into the kitchen and start making out with another boy in front of my great-grandmother, who I haven't seen in god-knows how long and will throw a fit, and then take it out on my brother! La-dee-fucking-da, yippity skip, I'm gonna fucking kill him!"

The younger boy flopped down on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall, taking a breath or two, as if having come to a conclusion. "I'm going to fucking kill him."

Tentatively, Orochimaru put hand a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder. "I think you're overreacting, Itachi -" 

The younger boy whirled on him and practically tackled him. "Overreacting! Overreacting! Do you know what! You've got no fucking clue how this family operates, do you! She's the fucking head of us all, and I'm the fucking heir! You get it! Whatever she decides I need to do, it's for the good of the clan! I don't have a fucking choice!"

Orochimaru's eyes were rather wide, staring into the reddening depths of Itachi's eyes. He, in fact, knew little about the Uchiha family, except that the two brothers were part of the main family, and that their parents were dead, their relatives hardly ever saw them, and long ago, they'd developed some sort of . . .technique as they called it, which turned their eyes red.

Itachi huffed and threw himself from the other boy, and once removed, found himself unable to stop moving. He twiddled his thumbs a bit, then stood up, then flopped back down, then got up again and paced around, his anger destroying his ability to stay still.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," he grumbled.

Orochimaru grinned. "I've got an idea." 

Itachi glared. "If it involves sex, now is not the time."   
The older boy shook his head. "No. No sex. At least, not yet." 

Itachi sighed, letting the older boy take his hand and drag him out of the room.

- - - - - - - - -

Hyuuga Neji was startled to see his cousin, walking calmly out of one of the buildings in the slums. Only vaguely did his mind wonder what the hell she'd been doing there, instead allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief that his most hated relative was safe.

"Hinata!" he called, jogging toward her, his shoes churning up snow.

She didn't look up. She seemed out of it, almost shaky. He ran right up beside her and practically shouted in her ear. It satisfied that part of him that could not worry about her, to see her jump.

"N-neji!" she stuttered in surprise.

Neji didn't say anything to her, just ploughed on. "Did you find TenTen?"

She nodded, only after a moment of thought though, for she seemed slightly stupefied. "Y-yes. . ."

Neji shook her, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Where is she!"

Then, he thought of something and asked, rather quickly, "Is she in there?" He pointed at the building Hinata had just emerged from.

The girl nodded, then grabbed him by the wrist. "Neji!"

"What?" he growled, trying to break her grasp and be free to go into the building. 

Hinata shook her head. "She. . .she doesn't want to see you."

The older Hyuuga looked heart-broken, as he turned around to face his cousin. "What?" he asked, his voice considerably softer.

Hinata lowered her gaze. "S-she said she didn't want to see you right now."

"Why not?" Neji asked, trying to regain the note of indifference in his voice, but failing miserably. His soft spot really was his girlfriend. 

Hinata was twiddling her thumbs. "Sh.. . .she's. . ."   
The younger Hyuuga paused, unsure suddenly of how wrong or right it was to tell Neji, especially when TenTen didn't want him to know. But, didn't he have a right to know, since it was his child too?

"She's pregnant," the girl whispered, barely audible above the winter wind, and suddenly ashamed of her decision. 

Neji stared blankly at her for a moment, then turned and dashed into the building, his cousin's soft words having unleashed the whirlwind of emotions that had been trapped since his girlfriend's disappearance. He barely registered Hinata's warning cry to him, as the door to the building slammed shut behind him.

He ran blindly, letting his instincts guide him and he scrambled up all the stairs, the snow being shaken roughly off his shoes as he went. He made it to the upstairs and he sprinted down the hall, then, realizing he didn't know what door belonged to his girlfriend, slammed himself into one and started knocking.

Someone peeled back the door and murmured a sleepy hello to the frantic boy, who asked desperately for his lover, but received only a blank stare in response. He moved on, moving at a frantic pace, and he swore that he'd knock on every last door until he found her.

Once, when the door rolled back, there was a girl who looked like the one he sought, only older and when he asked for Tenten, still in that desperate, weak tone, she moved aside and gestured for him to step inside.

He did, kicking off his boots and skittering down the hall, crashing into TenTen, who stared at him, her eyes wide. They tumbled to the floor in a confused mess. He was the one who untangled them, and it was then that he started to calm down.

He hugged the girl, as tight as he could, and he was sure it shocked her to no end, because it shocked him as well. "Gods! Oh, gods! I was so worried about you and -"

TenTen removed herself from his embrace, looking like she was on the verge of tears. "How did you- who - Hinata," she hissed, clenching her fists and gritting her teeth.

Neji shook his head, suddenly wishing to protect his cousin. "She only told me you were . . ."

He paused there, and there was an uncomfortable silence between them and they both looked down, and Neji reached out, gently placing his hand on his girlfriend's stomach, then retracting it almost instantly. 

"Are you really. . ."

TenTen looked up at him, shyly, then nodded slowly, not trusting her voice to speak.  
She was quite surprised when her boyfriend said nothing, but instead of being angry and leaving, or anything else she expected him to do, did the least expected thing and gathered her up in his arms and held her.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

"How about that one?"

"Gran. . ."

"Or that one? She's pretty."

"Gran, please, I don't. . ."

"The blonde one! The blonde one! We all know you like blondes," the old woman said with a little glare in her grandson's direction. 

Sasuke sighed, giving up. There was no use arguing with the old woman. She was head-strong and stubborn, just like Naruto. In all respects, he should have been used to it by now, but it still annoyed him to no end.

The old woman had her heart set on him dating some random floozy, or so it seemed, and she had dragged him down to the ice rink in the minus thirty weather, and was now pointing with her cane at any poor girl who happened to skate by.

He sighed again and rolled his eyes as she pointed at one of the girls who had already been pointed out to him at least five times before. "Look, Gran, I don't like girls," he said finally, growing too exasperated to let this little escapade carry on.

The old woman turned to him in the blink of an eye and shook her cane at him. "Do you like your dick where it is boy? 'Cause you'll be missing it shortly if you don't give up that little man whore you've got and pick a nice girl to settle down with!"

Sasuke paled visibly, not even the cold being able to make his cheeks red with wind burn. Who had known that the old woman could be so coarse! 

She shook her cane in warning, then turned back to the ice rink. It was at that exact moment that Sakura and Ino, who had previously been on the other side of the rink having some hot chocolate with two girls they knew from school, came skating over. 

"Afternoon Sasuke," Ino said, with a little wave of her hand, while Sakura meekly murmured something.

Sasuke felt almost sick. Sakura had turned into such a pile of mush, it was sickening. He was glad Naruto had retained his personality, and would at least fight with him. Though, as far back as he could remember, Sakura had turned into a little pile of goo whenever he was around. 

He must have looked a little green for the pink-haired girl in question looked at him a little funny and said, "Are you feeling all right?"

He nodded numbly. The two girls shifted their gaze and saw the elderly woman sanding there.

He saw their questioning gaze and cleared his throat, a bit of embarrassment creeping into his voice. He could only imagine the conversation this was going to lead to. . .

"Ino, Sakura, this is my great-grandmother," he said, being as polite as he could possibly be.

The two girls smiled and said hello, and to his surprise, the old woman was just as courteous.

Ino happened to glance down at her watch after a few moments of polite conversation, and decided it was high time that she and Sakura departed. They bid the Uchihas goodbye, and skated back across the rink.

Once they were out of hearing range, the ancient woman turned to Sasuke and said, "Well, those two were certainly nice! Why don't you pick one of them? I'm sure they'd make wonderful mothers, and even better housewives."

Had someone offered Sasuke a gun at that point, he would have gladly used it to shoot himself in the head.

Oblivious to her great-grandson's suicidal mood, the old woman continued to blather on and on and on, about Sakura and Ino, and how wonderful they seemed. Finally, unable to stand the praise of the two girls any longer, he turned to her and growled, "They're lesbians, Gran."

The old woman stopped dead in her tracks, and Sasuke felt a faint amount of worry that she'd had a heart attack. She stared at him for a moment or two, then said, rather snidely, "Well, they wouldn't have to be, if you weren't gay, now would they?"

Sasuke was ready to tear his hair out by the roots. Instead, he stormed ahead, grumbling and swearing under his breath.

"Sasuke!" the old lady hollered after him. "Get back here! It isn't good manners to leave a lady stranded!" 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Getting out of the house had been quite the task, but they'd done it and now, Itachi and Orochimaru, who was no longer masquerading as a girl, were walking down the street, Itachi glaring down at the snow on the ground.  
Both boys had their hands shoved in their pockets, trying their best not to look very friendly with each other, even though they were almost desperate to, because they'd been abstaining since the whole foursome incident.

Itachi glanced up as Orochimaru paused in front of a rather bland looking building. Itachi studied it for a moment, unsure as to why they were stopping here. The building was old, just like the other buildings in the downtown core, and it was falling apart, its paint job made it blend right in.

The sign above the window said something like 'Black Magic Antiques'. Itachi glanced at Orochimaru, who merely smirked at him. "A friend of mine works here," he said simply, before opening the door and ushering his boyfriend in.

The shop seemed harmless enough, and, true to the word, the room was filled with antiques. Itachi could only wonder why Orochimaru thought that looking at old, useless junk was going to soothe his ruffled feathers, friend or no friend. 

It took Itachi a moment to realize that while the antiques in the first room were normal, there was a second room, with the doorway cut off by a curtain of beads. Still, he could vaguely see the antiques in the second room, and he did not know what most of them were.

Orochimaru walked over to the counter and rang the little bell there, startling Itachi, who scooted nearer to him. 

There was a rustling from somewhere inside the other room, and a moment or two later, the beads of the curtain clinked together and a silver-haired boy walked out of the room. The light glinted on his glasses, before he took them off and polished them on his sleeve. 

"Good afternoon," he started, the glanced up, and noticed who was standing at the counter. "Oh. Hello, Orochimaru. I haven't seen you here for a while."

Orochimaru grinned and Itachi felt suddenly very nervous. "I've been rather busy, Kabuto," he said, and his gaze shifted to the younger boy beside him.

The silver-haired boy, Kabuto, glanced at Itachi, then smiled. "Ah. I think I understand," he said, then turned back and made as if to go into the other room. He paused in the doorway, then gestured to them. 

With a little prodding, Itachi nervously went forward, Orochimaru following right behind him. The whole thing had an occult feel to it, and Itachi would have bolted, but Orochimaru was right behind him.

They continued into the second room, and Itachi could now see that the antiques housed here were not normal. A blackened cauldron, with feet fashioned out of claws, not in the likeness of claws; a mirror that he couldn't see his reflection in, and on an so forth.  
The air seemed to be choking him, because it was dusty and thick. There was a door, a little wooden door that looked like it could fall to pieces at any second. Kabuto opened it and ventured inside, then glanced back at the two other boys. Attempting to swallow any fear he had, Itachi followed, and found that he was going down a dark stairwell, presumably into the basement. The foundation stones were beside him and they were damp and old, and the entire place smelled of old. 'Kind of like Gran', he thought, and nearly started laughing.

Orochimaru nearly tripped and sent them all down the stairs, and Itachi could only be glad when they landed on the floor. Candle light flickered all around the room. There was a small table set up in one corner of the room, and a deck of tarot cards set upon it, beside an orb - the classic crystal ball. There were shelves upon shelves of herbs and mixtures, half of which Itachi thought had to be illegal.

There were a few seats in the far corner of the room, and the silver-haired boy gestured for them to take a seat. They did as they were told, and almost immediately, Orochimaru's hand was in Itachi's lap. The younger boy deadpanned.

Kabuto sat down across from them, and there was silence for a moment or two as he studied them, or more importantly, Itachi. The younger instinctively curled into Orochimaru, fear getting the better of him.

Kabuto sighed after a moment or two, then sat back, and smiled. The smile did nothing to comfort Itachi, nor did Orochimaru's hand running along his spine. Kabuto looked at him, though it was almost impossible to tell, because of the light flickering off his glasses.

"You seem tense," he said.

Itachi said nothing. Orochimaru had found a knot in his back and was letting his fingers try to work it out. "Kabuto's a healer," the older boy explained gently, waiting for Itachi to uncurl and become bold again.

It didn't happen. Kabuto stood up and wandered over to one of the shelves, apparently looking for something. "He's rather uptight, huh, Orochimaru?"

The older boy shrugged. "He can be." 

Kabuto had clambered up an old, and what looked to be unsafe, ladder. "I take it you'd like him to relax a bit?"

Itachi watched as his boyfriend nodded, and Kabuto pulled something off the shelf, then clambered back down the ladder and handed whatever it was to Orochimaru. Itachi perked up a bit in curiosity and stared at the powder in the bottle.

"What is it?" he asked, forgetting his former fear. Screw it, he wanted to know what the fuck Orochimaru was planning on shoving down his throat or injecting into him. 

Kabuto waved his question off. "Just a couple of crushed herbs, nothing dangerous."

Itachi eyed him skeptically. If this guy's mind worked anything like Orochimaru's, it was dangerous to trust an answer like that.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Naruto hammered on the keys of the piano in frustration. He was having trouble getting these last few bars, and he knew he needed to have the song perfect for Monday so that Iruka could work out the bugs with the rest of the band's playing.

He'd been at it for the last hour and a half on and off, just because Konohamaru kept bugging the shit out of him. Iruka had left some time ago, to go to a 'meeting' with Kakashi, although Naruto had told him to stop lying about what he was doing with the other man. Naruto swore up and down that Iruka would always see him as a five-year-old. 

He screamed and banged on the keys, the piano making a sick noise at the abuse. Konohamaru glanced at him from the living room, then went back to his loud and noisy T.V. program. Naruto slammed his head down on to the keys.

There was a knock at the door, and Naruto was tempted to tell whoever it was to go to hell. Now was not the time to make him mad.

"Coming," he grumbled, hauling himself up from the piano, and wandering to the door, unaware of the marks the piano keys had spitefully left in his forehead.

He opened the front door and found none other than Sasuke, who stumbled into his home, seething with rage. "I'm.. . .I swear, I'll kill her! I can't stand her, and if she says one more thing, I'm going to kill her, string her up by her neck and-"

Naruto poked Sasuke, blinking stupidly. "What are you ranting about now?" 

Sasuke threw his hands up in annoyance. "My great-grandmother! I wish you had decked her! At least I wouldn't have to put up with her ranting about how I have to get a girlfriend! I don't like girls!"

Naruto grinned cheekily. "Aren't you a little old for the 'girls are icky' stage?"

Sasuke glared. Naruto cheered triumphantly, in his head of course. What better way to snap him out of his bad mood than to piss Sasuke off even more?

"No," the older boy was grumbling. "Because I like you."  
"And who wouldn't?" Naruto asked, trying very much to act vain and fluffing his hair a little bit, sticking his nose up in the air.

Sasuke stared blankly at him. 

Naruto sighed and moved aside. "Take of your shoes, and come sit your ass down," he growled, then stalked into the kitchen. Honestly, Sasuke was no fun at all.

The dark-haired boy did as he was told and sat down at the kitchen table. Naruto had put the kettle on the stove, and was waiting for the water to boil so he could make hot chocolate for his "twoo luff". He snickered when he thought that.

"So, what's bitten you in the ass now?" he asked, sitting down as well.

Sasuke sighed. "Gran's a bitch, she threatened to take off. . .erm. . .certain things if I don't get a girlfriend, and Itachi's in a snit. I think he might try killing me."

Naruto nodded sagely. "Seems like you have a bit of a problem."

Sasuke glared. "Well, thank you for noticing, Doctor Obvious," he sneered.

Naruto frowned. "Hey, hey. I think patient 'I have a stick up my ass' needs more of his medicine."

Feeling childish, but unable to resist, Sasuke stuck his tongue out at Naruto. Naruto grinned insanely. "Oh-ho," he chuckled, sounding very creepy and Sasuke wished he hadn't done that. "Someone needs that stick surgically removed, eh?"

The blond boy got up and turned the kettle off. "I do not have a stick up my ass, Uzumaki," Sasuke huffed. 

Naruto was still grinning. "Not now, but you will in a few minutes."

Sasuke paled for the second time that day and found himself in Naruto's arms, bridal-style, and the blond was struggling because the older boy was heavier than he'd expected. 

"Uzumaki! Put me down!"

"Gonna have to get you some sedatives," Naruto grunted, struggling his way to the stairs, Sasuke clawing at his shoulders and neck, in a vain attempt to get away.

Konohamaru peered out of the living room and watched in semi-amusement as Naruto wobbled his way to the upstairs, nearly killing himself from trying to carry the other boy. He listened, waiting to hear them fall back down the stairs, but fortunately, that didn't happen.  
He turned his attention back to his program, and when it went back to commercials again, he muted the T.V., only to quickly turn the sound back on again as the squeaking of bedsprings and groaning reached his young and innocent ears.

Grinning devilishly, the eight-year old got up, as noiselessly as he could, making sure to leave the T.V. on to cover any noise he made. He snuck out of the room, cursing the floorboards that creaked as he tip-toed through the dining room, and to the stairs. Today, he was finally going to find out what the hell the boys were doing that was such a secret thing.

He tip-toed up the stairs, going slowly, making sure to keep quiet. It seemed to take him forever to get to the top. Slowly, he reached out and put his hand on the door knob. The sounds were even louder than they had been downstairs, and he felt almost nervous as he started to open the door.

Finally, he just shut his eyes and flung the door open, then stared wide-eyed at the two boys on the bed, who had paused as soon as the door hit the wall, and were staring wide-eyed at him.

Konohamaru wanted to scream, but somehow, his voice wasn't working at that moment. Naruto was lying under Sasuke, who had his legs spread wide over Naruto's hips, and. . .

They were both naked. Konohamaru stared blankly at the two nude boys, wondering what the hell was wrong with them, because he was pretty sure that those parts weren't supposed to stand up like that. Nor was Naruto's supposed to be anywhere near Sasuke's ass.

"What the hell are you two doing!" he screamed, finding his vocal cords again.

"Get the hell out!" Naruto screamed, practically throwing Sasuke off him and grabbing the sheets off the floor.

He wrapped himself up as best he could and proceeded to chase Konohamaru from the room, screaming at him. The brat was in tears. Naruto slammed the bedroom door. "Fuck," he muttered.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Temari glared at Gaara. "Hurry up," she grumbled, watching the red-head tug on his shoes, then wrap himself in his jacket.

"I don't see what the big rush is about," he grumbled, glaring right back. 

Temari tapped her foot impatiently. "Gaara, I know you don't see the rush, but I do. We have to find that Uzumaki kid, before. . . you know."

Gaara muttered something incoherent and stalked outside. "This way," he said, blandly.  
Temari followed her brother, watching him carefully, noting the way he seemed almost depressed every time she mentioned the Uzumaki kid. 

As they stalked down the snowy street, she couldn't help but wonder what had happened, if anything at all, between them.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Lee was plotting. Yes, that was right. Lee was plotting.

He was sitting in his room, on his bed, with his knees curled up to his chest, thinking.

His beloved Sakura was with Ino.

How unfair was that? He'd chased after her for so long, and now, to be crushed by the fact she was with another girl. . .

He wasn't going to let Ino win. He was going to win Sakura over, even if it took him another thousand years! He wouldn't give up!

The only problem was of how to wrest Sakura away from Ino? In an instant, he knew he had to ask Shikamaru for help.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Kakashi and Iruka were snuggled down on the couch that doubled as Kakashi's bed in his small, crowded apartment. It wasn't that Kakashi couldn't afford a house, or an actual bed, it was just that he was cheap and didn't see the need for things like that.

Iruka was glad the couch had a fold-out bed. Otherwise, he'd probably have been a little more cramped. As it was, he was comfortably cozy, still buzzing from afterglow. Who needed drugs?

The blankets had been drawn over them almost immediately after, and even though they had still been warm at that point, the heater in the apartment building was broken, or malfunctioning or something and the air was cold and bitter.

Iruka closed his eyes and cuddled a little closer, sighing when the sleeping man beside him slid an arm about him lazily, and rolled over, muttering something about that filthy book he was always reading.

The afternoon wore on, but neither one paid attention to the time, far more enthralled with the eternity that was now.

- - - - - - - - - -  
Uchiha Itachi had never been so high in his life. Oh, of course, he'd been high before, because he hung around with 'wrong' people, but never had been so. . .incredibly. . .

Fucked up was the only way to describe it.

The room was spinning and everything was blurring in and out of focus, but he really couldn't care less. He felt like laughing out loud, but found he couldn't, because he was so incredibly tired, and so. . .

Relaxed.

Orochimaru was so warm and comfortable, and he felt almost like he was just floating there. He let his eyes fall shut, leaning against Orochimaru, feeling every time he shifted. He could hear the muddled murmur of his and Kabuto's voices, but he didn't understand what they were saying.

If he could have remembered, he would have been able to compare the feeling to being in his mother's womb. 

But, he could remember, so he just stayed there, unable to speak, and unable to do much more than glance lazily around the room, but not really wanting to that because he felt so incredibly tired. . .

Orochimaru and Kabuto were moving now, getting up and leaving him there. He didn't really notice when he was allowed to stretch out on the sofa; all he noticed was that the warmth was gone. He giggled stupidly to himself, then closed his eyes, feeling sleep crawling up on him again.

He would spend the next few hours like that, drifting in and out of consciousness and sleep, never really awake, but never really asleep, just high.

Orochimaru glanced back at Itachi when he giggled, and found that the other boy had closed his eyes and seemingly gone to sleep. "Are you sure he's okay?" he asked the healer, for even though he trusted Kabuto, he wasn't entirely sure this was how Itachi should react.

The silver-haired boy nodded and picked up the tarot deck. "Yes, that's what the drug is supposed to do. He'll be as high as a kite for a little while, and then, relaxed for the next couple of days."

He spread the cards out on the table, then picked them back up again, then spread them out again. "Now, let's see what the cards have to say about you today."

Orochimaru fathomed another glance back at his boyfriend, then turned back to Kabuto.

A few minutes later, Kabuto glanced up, toward the upstairs, then glanced at Orochimaru. "Excuse me," he murmured, then started back for the upstairs. Orochimaru hissed idly, and decided to see how Itachi was.

Meanwhile, Kabuto emerged into the first room of the shop, and nearly fell over in surprise. In his shop, towering over him, was someone he'd thought he'd never see again in his life. Hoshigaki Kisame grinned down at him.

Kabuto nearly started shaking. Kisame was not a person he wanted to deal with. "H-hello," he managed, trying to keep himself in check.

Kisame glanced about, as if he was looking for something - or someone. Kabuto knew for a fact that Kisame and Orochimaru had a sort of feudal rivalry, one that nobody wanted to be caught in the middle of.

Kabuto had long been a friend of Orochimaru, and apparently, Kisame knew that and thought that the shorter, smaller boy could help him find his old enemy. "You know where that stinkin' snake is, don't you?" Kisame growled.

Kabuto glanced around nervously, then nodded timidly. "D-downstairs," he stuttered, and pointed. 

Kisame brushed by him, heading in the direction he pointed. "Thank you," he said, still grinning.

Kabuto sighed nervously and took off his glasses, polishing them on his shirt, then, resettling them on his nose, scuttled after the other, hoping maybe to prevent a fight.

Kisame grinned as he saw Orochimaru's back, turned to him, illuminated in the candlelight. It looked like he was helping someone to their feet - how sweet - and Kisame got ready to tackle his rival, and catch him by surprise, because they still had a score to settle.

That was, until he saw the person the damned snake was helping to stand.

Kisame swore his heart stopped. The kid - he was younger than both himself and Orochimaru that was for sure, and probably Kabuto for that matter - was fucking beautiful.

His long, dark hair was bound back, and his bangs cascaded around his porcelain face. His eyes were the same shade as his hair, and his eyelashes looked like they belonged to a girl. Unfortunately, his demure image was ruined by the fact he was stumbling and completely out of it - probably Kabuto's doing. 

Orochimaru turned sharply when he heard the intake of breath and his eyes narrowed when he saw Kisame standing there. "You," he hissed.

Itachi stumbled against his boyfriend, trying to focus in on what he was glaring at, but he couldn't. He hid his face in the folds of his boyfriend's coat, collapsing and giggling stupidly. "I can't see," he laughed. "I can't see!" 

Orochimaru stared at his helpless boyfriend for a moment or two, before glaring at Kisame, then helping the other boy back up. "Lie down," he hissed to the Uchiha, who did as he was told, with some help, merely because he couldn't do much else.

Kabuto had returned downstairs by now, and seeing that there hadn't been a fight yet, sighed in relief. He glanced down at the table and found that someone had turned over the cards. He scanned them over quickly, then swallowed nervously, and glanced back at the impending fight before him.

The cards were predicting life-changing events. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -


	21. Exams!

(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! If you're reading, please remember to review. Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 21: Exams!

While Naruto was glad that the warm days of September had faded away into the icy days of December, his happiness was apparently not meant to last.

Now that the holiday was over, everyone had returned to school, and Naruto's situation had seen little improvement. He was still hated, everyone still whispered about his and Sasuke's relationship, Gaara was still stalking him, and he was still failing all his classes.

Now, to make things that much worse, the teachers were piling on the end of term assignments, and the all–dreaded exams were approaching.

The blond wanted to schedule some cram sessions with Sasuke, for the boy was, after all, a genius of the highest calibre, and if all else failed, Itachi might be able to explain something to him, but it was more likely that he would end up being distracted, either by Orochimaru and Itachi going at it, or themselves become distracted by. . .er, themselves.

Naruto tapped his pencil boredly on his desk, earning himself a glare from Tsunade. He smirked and tapped the pencil more rapidly and grinned even wider when the teacher turned back to the chalk board, doing some sort of review.

He glanced across the room, hoping to make eye contact with Sasuke, and mentally communicate that he wanted to talk to him after class, but the only set of eyes he found were Hinata's.

He dropped his gaze back to his blank sheet, unnerved by her gaze. She too looked away.

At last, the bell sounded, echoing in his ears, and he darted forward, catching Sasuke before he had time to dart off like he usually did. He grabbed the dark-haired boy by the arm and literally dragged him out of the classroom, into the crowded halls. Sasuke was staring at him, looking half confused and half angry.

"What's wrong with you?" he hissed, barely audible above the noise.

Naruto drew both of Sasuke's hands together in his own and looked pleadingly at the other boy. "Can I study with you sometime? Please?"

The older boy rolled his eyes. "No. We've already discussed this."  
Okay, it was time to get out the heavy artillery. Naruto was an expert at getting what he wanted, so he had perfected the art of puppy dog eyes, and making his bottom lip tremble, as if he might cry.

"Please?" he asked in the tiniest, most I'm-on-the-edge-of-crying voice he could muster.

Sasuke swore, looked away, then relented, muttering, "Fine. But we're studying. And nothing else."

"Yay!" Naruto shouted loudly, and hopped up and down, completely forgetting that he still had a hold of Sasuke and said boy was being forced to semi-hop with him.

A few passing by stopped and stared, bewildered. One of them whispered to another, "Must've agreed to lay him," before they walked on, and put the entire incident behind them.

- - - - - - - - - -

Uchiha Itachi had not had a good day. Not in the slightest. First off, it was his first day back to school. Secondly, he was going to have to write exams in a couple of weeks, plus finish off all the extra projects he should have finished off months ago, but hadn't, because he'd been too busy fucking around with his boyfriend.

And third, and foremost, said fucking boyfriend was being a fucking dick, and they'd been fighting ever since he'd gotten high, and met Kabuto. Apparently, some other shit had happened while he'd been out of it.

And to top it all, his relatives were still in his house, bugging the living daylights out of him, and some fishy fellow was now apparently stalking him, and that had made Orochimaru very possessive and on edge. Currently, the scenario often occurred where Itachi was being held closer than humanly possible to his boyfriend, who'd slung an arm about his waist for "protection purposes" and said boyfriend would be looking over his shoulder, with shifty eyes, whilst Itachi choked to death.

No, life was not good right now.

He sighed and sat down on the sofa, throwing down his binder and spreading out all the assignment sheets, reading them over as quickly as he could. He'd no sooner picked up a pencil than something - or someone, rather - bolted in the door, threw off their shoes and lunged at him, effectively tackling, and pinning him to the sofa.

"Orochimaru!" he screeched. "Get the hell off me!"

The older boy was currently licking his cheek, for some unknown reason. The golden-eyed boy blinked lazily, and drawled, "No."  
Itachi gritted his teeth and pointed at his now scattered papers. "Lookit here. I've got lots of projects and stuff to do, so I'm not going to be doing you for a while."

The elder boy retained his perch. Itachi slapped him. "Get off, or I won't ever do you again!"

Orochimaru latched onto the younger boy's neck, rather suddenly, and Itachi cried out in pain, then proceeded in trying to kick his boyfriend in the balls. "Get off me!" he screamed.

The elder finally relented and Itachi slapped a hand to his abused neck, feeling the blood sticking to his fingers. "What the hell was that for?" he hissed, his eyes narrowing in annoyance.

Orochimaru pressed his nose to his boyfriend's, locking their eyes. "Just a reminder," he said simply, earning himself a confused stare from his younger half. "You're mine."

Itachi muttered something and returned to his papers, only to pause and glare at the other boy, who was now absently playing with his ponytail. "Do you mind?" he growled.

"No," was the arrogant reply, accompanied by a smirk.

Itachi turned his attention back to starting his first assignment, which happened to be a writing assignment, and a fairly short one.

Over the course of twenty minutes, he'd found that he'd only gotten about two sentences written, because he'd had to keep stopping and glaring at Orochimaru, who kept touching him in various ways. "I am trying to work," he ground out in pure annoyance.

"Are we going to have sex yet?"

Itachi just stared blankly at Orochimaru for a moment or two, before turning back to his assignments, figuring that they were more likely to preserve his sanity than trying to converse with his boyfriend.

Only about ten minutes passed, before Itachi was interrupted yet again, but this time not by Orochimaru, but by Sasuke and Naruto, who were just arriving to begin their "study" session. Itachi sighed and gave up, throwing his pencil to the floor, and letting himself slump back into Orochimaru's waiting arms.

"Why do I even bother?" he asked, drawing a hand down his face in pure exasperation.

- - - - - - - - - - -

While Itachi was trying to deal with his homework downstairs, so were Sasuke and Naruto having an equal amount of trouble trying to study.  
About five minutes into the cram session, Sasuke gave up, throwing his hands into the air, crying, "You're a hopeless case, Naruto!"

The blond boy merely stared at him and blinked stupidly. Sasuke sighed and pointed at the paper Naruto was holding. "We're not studying math," he growled. "We were studying science."

Naruto glanced down at the sheet and noted that he had pulled out something completely unrelated to biology, or chemistry, which were the two units he was most concerned with. He'd been getting extra math help from Iruka, who happened to be a financial wizard, for months now.

Sasuke sighed and opened his boyfriend's binder, staring at the unorderly mess that resided there. He glared. "How do you expect to study this?" he asked skeptically.

"Um," Naruto said, biting his lip.

Sasuke sighed and got up, clambering up onto his bed and sprawling out. "You sort that out. Wake me up when you're finished."

Naruto glowered and started to organize his notes. Sasuke watched the blond, half-asleep, half not, his eyes only half closed. He mused on several things, ranging from how cute Naruto was when he pouted like that, to pretty much everything else Naruto-related.

Somewhere between the hot, wild sex, and how he'd like to kick Naruto into oblivion sometimes, Sasuke managed to fall asleep.

Naruto, by this point, had papers scattered all about Sasuke's room. He was still sulking, because if there was one thing he hated, it was organization. He didn't understand how Sasuke could keep his room so clean and neat, with not a paperclip out of place. It bothered him.

So, finally noting that his boyfriend was completely conked out, Naruto thought of a deviously devious idea. Of course, it took him a couple minutes, because nobody ever said that Naruto possessed any genius, but when he got an idea, did he ever get an idea.

Grinning evilly, Naruto got up. He crawled over the bed, waved his hand in Sasuke's face, and when he was satisfied that the boy was practically dead to the world, he got to work.

He started with the bookshelf. He removed the contents, turning the books on their sides, then placing them back on the shelves in messy, falling down piles, and when he ran out of room on the shelves, he started strewing them across the room.

Next, he took the pile of Sasuke's dirty clothes and literally threw them all across the room. Then, the papers to Sasuke's binders were turned loose, and objects were taken out of the drawers of his desk, his dresser and placed here and there, and everywhere.  
Naruto paused, pulling a little black book out from under a pair of Sasuke's underwear. The book was unmarked, and that made the little blond curious. He cracked open the book, and found that it was full of blank pages. He turned through them, utterly bored by them, until he stumbled across a page that was not blank.

In fact, marring the perfect white of the page, was Sasuke's utterly perfect, terribly legible handwriting. Naruto snickered and stumbled backwards, landing on the bed. His boyfriend had a diary!

The bed rocked when he landed on it, and he glanced over to see if he'd woken the ebony-haired beauty sleeping there. Sasuke muttered and rolled over, but remained prone otherwise. Naruto sighed and peered at the book again.

He read a couple pages, the dissolved into laughter again. Just like any teenage male, it appeared that Sasuke had some rather odd sexual fantasies, but unlike most of the male populous, he'd written them down. Another odd fact was that most of them seemed to feature Naruto, as the dominant partner, rather than the submissive one.

"Well, if that isn't fucking odd," he muttered and prodded Sasuke, who waved his hand around and buried his face in the pillow.

Naruto snickered evilly and the wheels in his head began to turn, as he formulated an evil plan. Unfortunately, he happened to glance at the clock and noticed that it was well past dinner-time. Frowning, he wandered downstairs, to see if maybe he could scrounge something.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, as he would later come to refer to the incident, the Uchihas apparently ate later than his 'family'.

Itachi and Orochimaru were having a staring contest across the table, apparently still fighting with each other, though Naruto wasn't quite sure why. The Uchihas' aunt, Kurenai, Naruto thought Sasuke had called her, was sitting at the table as well, glancing between the two boys nervously.

The brothers' great-grandmother was stirring something in the stove, and prattling on to Kurenai about something or other.

All in all, the entire atmosphere was fairly hostile. Though Gran had known about Orochimaru actually being a guy for about a week, she had yet to say anything about it to either her great-grandson or the other.

Kurenai was nervous, and Itachi and Orochimaru had been fighting since before the holiday ended, or Sasuke had told Naruto.

They all glanced up at him when he entered the room, and he watched their faces drop, as if they had been expecting someone else. Oh, that was right. He didn't live here, but Sasuke did. They must have been expecting him.

"Oh, it's you," Gran huffed and went back to her soup. . .or whatever it was.

Naruto gritted his teeth in annoyance. "What do you mean by that!" he yelled, taking up a fighting stance.

He wasn't taking any shit from this bitch.

"What do you think I meant?" the old woman said, narrowing her eyes into the patented Uchiha glare.

Kurenai rapped her knuckles on the table nervously. "Now, please don't fight. . ," she started, but never finished, because Naruto and Gran had met half-way across the kitchen and were now glaring each other in the eye.

"Stupid brat," the old woman hissed.

"Dumb old bitch," Naruto spat.

Itachi rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut the fuck up," he growled, getting up from the table.

Orochimaru kicked him. "Mind you manners," he growled, glaring.

"Make me," Itachi retorted, sticking out his tongue.

Naruto and Gran started at the fighting teenagers for a moment, then returned to their own bickering. They lunged at each other, and started trying to kill each other with every means possible. Gran grabbed her cane; Naruto found a butcher's knife and brandished it dangerously.

Kurenai looked nervously from one fight to the next.

Orochimaru and Itachi were wrestling on the floor, and Gran and Naruto had actually picked up weapons. Kurenai chewed on her lip.

It was that exact moment that Sasuke decided to meander into the kitchen. He stared blankly for a moment or two, then closed his eyes and screamed, "What the fuck is going on in here!"

Everyone stopped and stared at the youngest Uchiha, who glared back at them.

Naruto's last cohesive thought was the Sasuke was very scary when he was mad, but he didn't quite remember that, because Gran managed to knock him out with a frying pan.

- - - - - - - - - - - -  
In the home of Umino Iruka, the frying pan was being used for other things, such as cooking, rather than knocking people out.

The snow was falling gently outside and though the house was warm, Konohamaru, who was sitting at the kitchen table, was feeling a little icy. It wasn't as though he felt cold and cut-off, or that Iruka was being mean. It was that icy grip, the vice-like fingers of fear.

He had a question to ask his uncle, though he was almost sure he didn't want to.

He stared at the cup of milk he had between his hands, and cleared his throat. He wanted his voice to be loud and clear, so that Iruka would hear him the first time and he wouldn't have to ask him more than once. If he had to repeat himself, he might have backed out and tried to forget about asking.

"Uncle Iruka," he started, and his voice was almost as quiet as the snow falling outside.

Iruka half-turned, having heard him despite the smallness of his voice, and 'hmm'ed, indicating that he should continue.

The eight-year-old swallowed and his eyes darted about the room nervously. He drew a deep breath and said softly, "What's sex?"

Iruka choked, then turned about fully, eyes wide. "What?" he asked, his voice choked and incredulous.

Konohamaru looked at his feet and twiddled his thumbs.

Iruka was at a complete loss for words. His eight-year-old nephew had just asked him that question, the question that all parents dreaded.

Iruka had actually never put himself through the embarrassment, or the strain of having "the talk" with Naruto, partially because the blond never asked, and partially because Iruka probably would have had a heart attack trying to broach the subject.

So, how did he explain this now?

"Why?" he asked stupidly, unable to come up with a brilliant plan of action to weasel his way out of this impending conversation.

Konohamaru went very red in the face, and looked down some more, mumbling. Iruka strained to hear him, but failed miserable. "Pardon?" he asked, and the eight-year-old's head shot up.

He nearly screamed, "I saw Naruto and Sasuke doing stuff!"

Iruka froze. All his limbs went limp, dropping like dead weights; his blood froze in his veins. His brain stopped working. Heck, his heart probably stopped for a second or two. "You what!"

"They were doing stuff," the little boy mumbled, looking away again.

"What. . .kind of stuff?" Iruka ventured after a moment or two of awkward silence.

Konohamaru huffed and crossed his arms. He knew this was a bad idea. He'd have been better to talk to Naruto, or that Kakashi guy who hung around with Iruka. Kakashi seemed like a bit of a pervert.

"Like. . .kissing, and stuff," he said, looking steadfastly at the wall.

Iruka sighed. Kissing, oh gods, he only saw them kissing. He was just about to send a mental thank you note to whatever great spirit had prevented his innocent little nephew from seeing more, when said nephew ploughed on.

". . .and. . .Naruto. . .had. . .that. . .up Sasuke's butt."

Iruka coughed loudly, for several minutes, then cried, "What!" and stared at his nephew like a deer in headlights.

Konohamaru glared. "You heard me!"

Iruka sighed. There was no way to get out of this conversation, no way at all. He chuckled dryly a little bit. "Naruto," he laughed. "Is so dead."

Konohamaru looked warily at his uncle, then decided it might be a wise idea to bolt.

Unfortunately, before he could, Iruka had sat down, ready to teach his nephew the basics of life.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Sasuke hadn't spoken to Naruto in a week. It was disturbingly frustrating. Whenever the blond tried to approach the other boy, Sasuke distracted himself, talking to whoever was closest to him, or walking smartly away.

Oh, he'd been mad. It was true that Sasuke didn't like his grandmother, but Naruto supposed that didn't mean Sasuke would stand back while they beat the living snot out of each other. Ah, the old saying, 'blood's thicker than water' came to mind.

It was a bit of a surprise to Naruto that Sasuke was the one to bridge the gap, because normally, if he knew how Sasuke's mind worked, it would have taken month's for him to get on the boy's good side again.

It was the day of the big English exam, and about half an hour before the exam actually started, Sasuke found his blond boyfriend sitting in front of his locker, studying as hard as he could.

The elder boy sat down, and waited a bit for Naruto to acknowledge him. When the blond did no such thing, Sasuke scooted a bit closer and pointed to something on the page Naruto was reading, saying, "That's not the right definition for alliteration, dunce."

Naruto glared daggers and sniffed. "It's none of your business, asshole."

Within the next twenty-five minutes, all bad feelings that had been lingering in their relationship, and any uncertainties they held had been completely dispelled and comforted. They'd touched, nothing too serious, but gentle touches, signs of affection - hands brushing against hands, Sasuke laying his head on Naruto's shoulder, an arm about the shoulder - and they did not care what anybody said.

The clock read five to nine when Naruto packed away his notes and headed to the exam with Sasuke. The blond was still trying to remember all the important topics they'd covered, in his knowledge-crammed head, when the ebony-haired boy turned to him and said, "Naruto, I was wondering. . ."

"Wondering what?" Naruto asked, looking up, and seeming almost absent. He was still mentally cramming for the exam.

"I was wondering if I was to have. . .oh, let's say a party of some sort. . ."

"A party, right. Go on."

"Would you be able to get Iruka out of the house for the night, so we could have the party there?"

"Sure, whatever," Naruto muttered, not really paying attention now, because the classroom was in sight and that made Naruto nervous, which in turn, made him try harder to remember everything he might need to know.

"Great," Sasuke said.

The bell rang, and the teacher presiding over the examination opened the door. Slowly, the unwilling students started to flow into the classroom. Naruto sat as near to Sasuke as possible, which wasn't really possible, because everyone else was trying to sit beside the genius too.

He ended up sitting beside Sakura, who was sitting behind Ino, who had managed to sit beside Sasuke. Two rows ahead of him was Hinata, and two seats away from him, on his left, was Kiba.

The teacher was explaining the exam, telling them what they already knew: the time limit, to read the instructions carefully.  
He glanced over at Sakura as the teacher started handing out the papers. "Good luck," he whispered.

She smiled and nodded. "You too," she replied, as quietly as she could.

The teacher rapped her knuckles on the pink-haired girl's desk as she walked by. "No talking during the exam," she barked, then continued on.

An hour and a half later, one very frustrated, very upset Uzumaki Naruto was sure that he had just failed his English exam. He was no good at writing essays, and that was exactly what they'd been asked to do, write a damn essay.

He stood, tearing at his hair near his locker, trying not to scream, but to vent at the same time.

"How do you think you did?"

He stopped pulling at his hair long enough to see Hinata, who was standing in front of him, tapping her index fingers together. Naruto shook his head, indicating he didn't want to talk about it.

The white-eyed girl looked vaguely disappointed. "Oh. Well, I'm sure you'll do okay," she said, trying to be encouraging, and gave him a shy small.

He sighed. "Thanks," he murmured and turned back to his locker.

He opened the locker up, and he was just about to ask her how she thought she did, when he noticed she had gone.

He turned back around and found Sasuke standing in front of him. "Jeez," he muttered, glaring darkly. "Why must you people be so goddamn quiet?"

The taller boy quirked an eyebrow in inquisition, but said nothing. Without another word, Naruto gathered up his stuff, and shut his locker. He started off down the hall, Sasuke tagging along like his shadow.

They walked into the outdoors, feeling the winter wind's bitter bite, as it slapped them in the face and forced their exam-numbed minds to wake up.

Sasuke turned to face him, and his pale cheeks were already tinged pink from the cold. "So, is Saturday okay?"

Naruto looked at him, stupefied. "What?"

Sasuke rolled his eyes. "The party."  
"Oh," Naruto muttered, trying to remember why and when Sasuke had mentioned a party. "Sure. That's great."

- - - - - - - - - - - -

"Are you sure about this?"

"As sure as I'll ever be."

Itachi watched impassively as the other speaker fitted a key into a lock, and opened the door up. He was led into the dingy apartment, which was still filled with dirt and grime and remnants from the old occupants, lending to the feeling that this was something new. This person was new, he was new to this place.

Something or other was shoved into his hands, and he looked down, realizing it was a small paper bag, full of that powder Kabuto had given him the other day.

He glanced at the other boy in the room, who shrugged and said, rather gruffly, "That damned snake was right about something. You are uptight."

Itachi frowned, but said nothing else, helping himself to the powder.

Truth be told, he'd liked being high, and he'd liked feeling like he'd had nothing to do, nothing to worry about, because it was such a change from reality.

There were hands on his shoulders, gently working out the knots in him. "You're very stressed out."

"Hn," was all he said and closed his eyes.

"You're also very pretty."

He opened his eyes and looked into blank, fish-like eyes. They were worse than Orochimaru's eyes, and he almost shuddered in fear. Instead he closed his eyes, blocking out the image of this new person.

Gentle, tender, that was how the touches were, almost hesitant and shy. It had never been that way with the other one - no, it had been bold and blunt, and rough right from the start. Maybe that was what was missing - some tenderness, some understanding.

They were both too tough, too callous for that.

There were hands in his hair now, and the touch was different, it was so different that it almost made him want to cry. It was so gentle and compassionate, he felt he could break down; he was doing something wrong now, but he'd been driven to it by the burning anger and he wanted to backlash the other so hard.

This one tasted different too, of something a little more disgusting than the last. The last tasted of something a little bittersweet, like baker's chocolate, while this one tasted more like raw meat.

If he kept this up, he'd ruin it. He couldn't keep comparing them, it was wrong. That was then, this was now. That was him, this was he, and the only thing they really had in common was that they thought Itachi made a good piece of ass.

Kisses, sweet and gentle, nothing like they had been with his last lover. The drug was starting to take effect now, starting to take hold and everything around him was surreal, no longer held by the bounds of gravity, no longer held by the bounds of reality.

And in that hazy mist, there was one other thing, the only thing that could keep him anchored.

Why? Why was he doing this? He was doing it for revenge, to get back at the last one. He was no one's property and Orochimaru had made the mistake of thinking he was, and he was over-bearing and over-protective and it had insulted him and pissed him off.

So, he'd done the only logical thing he could and he'd run straight into the arms of the enemy, and he was going to be the ornament in that one's bed, and he would just let said enemy rub it in Orochimaru's face that he had lost this time.

In his drug-induced stupor, there was only Kisame.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was all the buzz during the exams the next day. The students were chattering excitedly about it in the halls, and as they wandered into their classrooms, even as the teacher was trying to hush them and pass out the test papers.

"Did you hear? Have you heard?"

"Sasuke's having a party Saturday night."

"Really!"

"The Uchihas always have the best parties."

"There's gonna be alcohol right?"

"Do you know anyone who's going? I don't want to go alone. . ."

"Everybody's going! Who wouldn't?"

"I heard it's at Naruto's house. Is it true?"

"Ew. Who'd want to have a party at his house?"

And so on and so forth. Word of the party raced up and down the student food chain like a wild fire, and soon, even the most unpopular nerd had heard about the party Saturday night, and was trying to decide whether or not to go.

Naruto, of course, had known that there was a party. However, he was shocked to find out that the party was being held at his house, by Sasuke.

Gaara had absorbed the news silently from several nearby students, leeching it from them, and then told Temari, who was hell-bent to drag them to that party, for the sole sake of their 'mission'.

Sakura and Ino had been gushing over it, all day, because a party was an excuse to get out of the house, and mingle with their friends, and drink and possibly do some other stuff.

Lee was plotting to use the party to put his plan to capture Sakura's heart into action. Shikamaru was planning on not going. Hinata thought she might go, because Kiba wanted her to, and she might see Naruto. Kiba was going because of the free alcohol.

Orochimaru and Itachi had thankfully not heard about the party yet, and Sasuke was going to try and keep it that way, even though they could legally buy alcohol. Itachi and Orochimaru generally scared people, and they were scary sober, and even scarier drunk. Plus, they were in sort of a war, so he didn't think getting them drunk would help. And besides that, they each knew some very weird people, who they would no doubt invite.

The exams dragged by, and Saturday grew closer and closer, and finally, on Friday after two hours of the dreaded science exam, everyone was free from school for a week or so, and it was off to the party with them all.

- - - - - - - - - -

TenTen stood in front of the looming building, feeling the nervousness twist in the pit of her stomach.

The skies were grey, dark, with the clouds threatening snow. The wind was picking up, and howling wildly through the evening streets. A few cars drove by, splashing up the slush from the road.

She wished Neji was with her right then, and there, though she doubted he'd be much support, because he really never was. He was also dead-set against this, which was why she was there without him.  
She drew a shaky breath and took a step toward the building, then another, and another, until she was walking into the tiny building that had seemed so foreboding a few seconds ago, despite it's small stature. She ventured into the doctor's office, to right her wrong.

- - - - - - - - - - - -


	22. Rebel!

(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Remember, if you're reading, please review! Disclaimers and warnings apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 22: Rebel!

"Iruka, please," Naruto whined, his knees becoming very well acquainted with the linoleum of the kitchen floor.

"No," Iruka said, not once turning back to look at the blond, begging on his knees and kept stirring whatever he was cooking.

No, Naruto was not begging Iruka to sexually gratify him. Naruto was not that hard-up that he'd ask his "big brother" for such a thing. Naruto was merely asking Iruka to go out and have some fun, and take Konohamaru with him, so he could be home. Alone.

There was a very plain and good reason that Iruka was refusing as blatantly as he was. Naruto. Alone. At home. Those three sentence fragments were a very dangerous combination, as Naruto would not be home alone very long, but home by himself with one Uchiha Sasuke, and gods-knew where what would end up if those two had the run of the house.

"Pleeeeeasee. . ."

"No."

This carried on for a quite a while, until Iruka became so incredibly annoyed, that he nearly burnt the soup, which Naruto later found out was what he'd been cooking, and started yelling at the blond, who beat a wise and hasty retreat to the sanctity of the dining room, where Iruka could merely glare at him, as he continued to beg and whine.

Iruka rubbed his temples and grumbled, complaining to the cheerfully bubbling pot of soup, which was very glad it was only a pot of soup, and therefore, did not have to deal with the trials and tribulations that humans encountered on a day to day basis.

Iruka, being the wise creature he was, wished he could trade places with the soup, so it could deal with Naruto. Though, he wasn't sure how much he'd enjoy being placed on the burner and boiled alive.

While he'd been contemplating, Naruto had gone strangely silent. He paused, looked around, then peered into the dining room. Seeing not a trace of the blond, he ventured into the room further, only to hear Naruto's thudding footsteps on the stairs as he returned downstairs, clutching two pieces of paper in his hands.  
Tickets. Iruka swore under his breath.

Naruto grinned wildly and handed them to Iruka, who took them only on reflex of being shocked. Naruto closed his eyes and his face took on such a vulpine aspect that it was ridiculous.

"Kakashi said he wanted you to go with him to this concert, and I know you like this band," he said, in an almost teasing tone.

Iruka spluttered. "But what about Konohamaru?"

Naruto tapped a finger against his temple. "Got it all worked out," he said, grinning cheekily. 

Iruka sighed, defeated, by the conspiracy of Naruto and Kakashi. He grinned darkly. Woe would come to those two, if he survived this night.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The instant Itachi breezed into the house, Orochimaru knew something was wrong. There was something wrong about the way Itachi was smiling, more of smirking, so sedately and serene, yet smug even so. There was something wrong about the way he held himself, the poise that of a man who had thwarted a long-hated foe, after a long struggle.

He knew something was wrong with this, so why did he hold his tongue and stay silent, observing how out of place all this seemed?

What was more, Itachi's clothes were all mussed, and hung off of him all askew, his hair hastily having been tied back, as though it had been untied, then swept back again. His lips were bruised, his nails had blood under them, and he reeked of sex, sex that was not him and he. It was sex, sex that he'd shared with someone else.

Orochimaru wrinkled his nose in disgust.

Who else would Itachi dare to let touch him? Who else would Itachi welcome into his bed? Who else, who else but himself, could make the elder Uchiha cry in pleasure, and become so submissive? More importantly, how long had this been going on? 

Itachi, on the other hand of most lovers having affairs, was not doing a damn thing to try and hide this. He knew he looked like a mess, he knew he looked far too pleased with himself, and he knew he smelt of sex. He knew he was pissing Orochimaru off.

He plonked himself down beside his boyfriend, taking the initiative and pressing his lips to Orochimaru's, touching the serpentine boy with tainted flesh that had been touched by someone else. He would make the older boy know where he'd been touched, and how, and by who, by recreating those touches and making Orochimaru see them, even as a pale memory, or a slowly colouring bruise against pale flesh.  
He was not afraid that Orochimaru would be angry with him, because that was exactly the reaction he wanted. He would not hesitate, he would not be unsure of his actions, and he most certainly would not be sorry that he had done it.

His solid resolve was broken when he pulled back, and looked Orochimaru in the eye, seeing instead of pooling anger, anger watered down with the pains of betrayal and hurt, of distrust and confusion.

Orochimaru could not comprehend why Itachi had done this, and the only reasoning seemed to be that he was out to hurt him, and well, he'd done a damn good job, now hadn't he? The serpentine boy barely cleared the emotions away from his eyes, from his being, before Itachi read him too deeply.

If Itachi wanted to fuck around, he could too. Revenge was not made for one and only one, and two could play the game of get-backs, and he knew very well how to do it. Hate brewed inside his whirling head, fuelled by a heart he would not admit that was broken beyond repair, at this now final blow. Hate was easy, and hate was biting, crueller, harder than love, and it was much simpler to grow and harvest, then sew again.

He pushed Itachi, Itachi who was tainted now, and not his, no longer solely his, away from him, unable to stand the presence of the lying weasel he had entrusted, unable to remain completely detached from the world for much longer, not with him that close.

The hate was newly formed, and though bitter in its resolve, was still fragile, and threatened to break, if Itachi happened to make one motion, happened to look one way at him, happened to speak one word to suggest that he was sorry, and let him forgive, and then, to plough on and be hurt again, because he had not punished misbehaviour in the beginning, and let it flourish, like a flower in spring.

So, he must punish this act now, and let it be made known that he didn't stand for this type of thing. He glowered at his boyfriend, now his ex, while Itachi just looked back, his face unreadable. Even the depths of his eyes were blank, with practised precision.

"Who?" Orochimaru asked, his voice having gone all raspy on him, for some odd, inexplicable reason; namely, the chaotic state of his emotional self.

Itachi's smugness had died and withered within itself, and now, he seemed abashed, almost shamed, and he lowered his head, veiling his expression, a sure sign of submission, though his voice, when he spoke, still held a note of pride. "Kisame."

The word brought the older boy's blood to boiling, searing through his veins on the wave of anger so intense that, the rational part of him that hid in the shadows of the anger, thought he might act upon whim and strangle Itachi to death, kill him, let his blood spill . . .   
Itachi's eyes were up now, the dark depths aflame with something, and his voice oozed acid, but still smooth and thick, like warm honey, as he said something, his words barbed with poison as they fell from sweet, tainted lips. "I do not belong to anyone." 

And he was gone, before Orochimaru could commit some act of stupid violence, harm the other boy beyond repair, as Itachi had done to him. He called after the boy, but to no avail, and in a fit of passion, grabbed the nearest expendable item which happened to be a rather expensive vase, and threw it to the floor, letting it smash into a hundred million shards, each one barbed razor sharp, sharp enough to draw blood.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

To have music meant to be moved by the beat; to be moved by the beat meant to dance; to dance as some idiots were meant they had to drink beforehand.

The only thing Naruto was drinking, was the sight of what a mess his home was going to be before Iruka got home, and what a mess his body was going to be after Iruka got through with him.

Vaguely, Sasuke said something to him, but he didn't hear it, because he was mad at Sasuke. When his bloody, mangled body finally gave up the ghost, he was going to become a very vengeful ghost and haunt Sasuke till his dying days. 

He glanced over at his boyfriend, who had obviously drunk a little too much, because he was flushed, and draped all over him, giggling drunkenly when the drunk git - Shino ,he thought his name was - on the other end of the sofa pinched his ass, then belatedly tried to swat away the offending hand.

Naruto growled, low in his throat. He might become a very vengeful boyfriend right then, if that ass did not stop touching his stuff. His stuff, being Sasuke's ass. He might just have to reinstate his control over that territory. 

He was thinking like some wild animal, and he knew it, so he shook his head, but the thoughts stayed intact, clinging happily to the perverted part of his brain, and his libido welcomed them with open arms. Great, now his brain was conspiring against him.

Sasuke gasped loudly in his ear, then started giggling and wiggled closer to him, sitting down on his tush, so nobody else could grope him there. "Don't," he whined, almost like a slutty girl, smirking lopsidedly at the guy on the other end of the sofa.

'Go for the jugular, tear it out, nice clean kill,' Naruto's thoughts whispered in his ear, and he unconsciously clenched his fist, nails digging into his palm hard enough to leave imprints.

At least Sasuke was snuggled up close to him now, nice and safe where he could keep and eye on him. "Oy, stop that," he grumbled, trying to push the overly inebriated boy off him, for said boy was now licking his ear - sloppily, of course.

Sasuke giggled - which was becoming rather annoying - and lay his head down on Naruto's shoulder, sighing softly, as if content. It was a sigh Naruto rarely heard, generally used after they had hot, rampant -

Oh, good, now his thoughts were running away into the gutter. Wonderful. From the way things were going, it looked like he would do one of three things that would get him in major shit from Iruka before the night was over.

One, he'd kill that guy who was looking at Sasuke like a starving dog looks at a piece of meat. Two, he'd get so drunk, he'd pass out on the floor. Three, he'd take Sasuke to his room and fuck him senseless. Unless, of course, some other couple had already found his room, and his bed.

He'd already done the stupidest thing, which was to allow Sasuke to have the party at his house, anyways. Iruka was going to kill him. . .

Something shifted, and Sasuke was sitting on his lap, nearly losing his balance, and brought them nose to nose, so that he was staring into the alcohol-hazed depths of Sasuke's eyes. It took him a second to realize that the dark-haired boy was pouting.

"You're no fun Naruto," he slurred, obviously having some trouble stringing the words together.

"Would you like me to be some fun?" the blond asked wickedly, deciding that option number three would get him in less shit than option one or option two.

Besides, the wheels in his head were still reeling from what he'd read nearly a week ago now, in that little book that Sasuke wrote his thoughts in. What better time to act out one of those little fantasies than now, and fulfill it, and in the morning, there would be no embarrassment of asking how Naruto found out about that, because Sasuke, he was quite sure, would be too drunk to remember.

And that kind of doused Naruto's fire. After all, what was the point of having absolutely mind-blowing sex, when one of you didn't remember it in the morning? Could you really verify then that it had been mind-blowing?

Ah, screw it. Option number three was still the best option, and hell if he wasn't going to get some from Sasuke, because the boy was obviously willing and ready to give some out, and if he didn't get it, then the dark-haired boy would be giving it to someone else. He sighed. His logic, at times, scared him.

Sasuke had said something while he was thinking, and he'd completely missed it, and it probably wasn't that important, because the boy was drunk. So, he opted for picking Sasuke up, and instantly decided that the boy was heavier when he had little to no control of his muscles. The dark-haired boy was, in fact, like a deadweight hanging from about his neck.  
Naruto grunted and made his way, as gracefully as he could, from the room.

He saw a flash of pink-hair, and a blonde girl standing in one corner, Ino and Sakura obviously, each with a drink in one of their hands, the other intermingled with the other girl's free one. Ino pointed at Naruto, and Sakura giggled, and they both waved to him exaggeratedly, wishing him luck in his. . .endeavours.

Sasuke licked his ear and cuddled. He was amazed at how sweet the boy could be at times, and when he was drunk, he was definitely more sentimental than when he was sober. A wicked grin crossed Naruto's usually cheerful features. This was going to be fun.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Ino was the first to notice Lee approaching herself and Sakura, and almost instantly had the urge to hide Sakura away, out of sight. Lee was wearing an expression of determination, which was never a good sign. Ino could only hope that he was as hell-bent on getting Sakura as everyone always said he was.

Ah, hope was stupid and petty anyway.

Lee gave her a curt nod, before smiling winningly at Sakura, who smiled timidly back, and curled a little closer to Ino, clutching the girl's hand tighter, as if saying, 'I'm with her. Fuck off.'

Ino wished that Sakura could be that crude then, because her smile only egged Lee on, while he did his best to ignore the hand-holding.

But no, Sakura was almost always too polite to people, even when she didn't want them to stay around her, wanted them to go away, and her inner self was screaming at the person she talked so quietly to.

Ino felt so terribly uncomfortable, because Sakura was too close to her now, eating away at her personal space, and Lee just kept talking, and as he did, Sakura just kept scooting closer to her blonde lover. 'Just say it,' she urged Sakura silently, although she knew that the girl never would.

Hesitantly, she broke into the conversation, saying to Sakura, "I'm going to talk to Shikamaru. I'll be back in a few."

A dark look, one of possession and even jealously overtook Sakura's face at the mention of the boy they'd dubbed 'pineapple-head' when they were nine, but she let go of Ino's hand, and the blonde girl beat a hasty retreat to see said pineapple-head.

Shikamaru, who had miraculously dragged himself to the party, was sprawled in an armchair, not too far away, so that Ino could excuse herself from the Lee-situation, but keep a close eye on it, just in case he tried anything. She wasn't sure that Lee would, for he was far too nice for that, but if he was desperate, there was always that last resort.

She was lucky that Shikamaru didn't say much to her, or anything about her drawn out silences when he did ask a question, because she'd been glaring at Lee as he took Sakura's hand in his own, or something like that, but it was hard enough to talk over the music anyways, and conversation was almost pointless. Of course, Shikamaru always thought it was pointless.

At last, Sakura gained the courage to stand on her own two feet, her voice rising against the music, rivalling all other sound in the room, as she screamed at the poor boy. Ino felt almost a pang of sympathy for him, because Sakura was scary when she got pissed off. The pink-haired girl hid behind a demeanour of shy kindness, a demeanour that housed a wildcat, waiting for the chance to sharpen her claws on the next thing that ticked her off.

"No, Lee! Fuck off!" the girl was screaming, now ranting about how she'd never go out with him, and so on and so forth.

Any of the party-gores who had stopped to look now turned away, shaking their heads, because this was the same endless rant that Sakura always had whenever Lee pushed a little too hard. Some of them even remembered the days when she'd blow up at Naruto like that, back when the blond had a crush on her.

Whatever happened to that crush, none knew, but Ino suspected that the answer lay in the love-hate line he walked with Sasuke, which was a far more emotionally challenging relationship than his one with Sakura had ever been.

Sakura was walking her way now, her face red with anger, flipping her hair over her shoulder, a clear sign that she was pissed. Her glass was empty - Ino wondered if she'd thrown the drink on Lee before she'd stormed away. She almost didn't doubt it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Iruka did not like rock concerts. They were loud, too loud, they were smoky, and dark and crowded. Most of the people were drunk, or high or something, and the rock band could not play music that Iruka actually classified as music.

Give him an opera any day, and he would be a very happy Iruka, but this wasn't about Iruka being happy, this was about Kakashi being happy. Apparently, both the silver-haired teacher and Naruto were into this garish stuff. 

Kakashi was having the time of his life apparently, screaming and singing by turn, banging his head up in down to the tune of the music. Tune, Iruka mocked in his thoughts, what tune? There was certainly none he could hear, and he hated that.  
The heavy scent of weed was in the air, and almost everyone there reeked of it, or alcohol. Kakashi was no help, disappearing into the melee every now and then, leaving Iruka to fend for himself. Iruka thought himself far too old for this kind of thing.

The lights were sweeping the crowd, and he was nearly blinded by them, and collided with someone else, who was drunk, and obviously, a confrontational drunk. "Oy, you asshole! Watch where you're going!"

"Sorry," Iruka murmured, turning away, but the guy grabbed him by the back of his collar, growling.

"I ain't through with you." 

Iruka ducked the punch thrown his way, letting the drunk's fist land in someone else's arm, and said someone turned about, glaring. A little scuffle broke out between the two, then more and more people joined in, turning 'scuffle' into 'fight'. 

Iruka scuttled away in the chaos, stumbling back into Kakashi, who just grinned down at him. Iruka glared and scowled a bit. "We can leave," Kakashi mouthed over the music, and Iruka's heart melted at the thought that Kakashi was willing to throw away his hard earned tickets, and something he obviously enjoyed, for him. 

He shook his head, because Kakashi would likely blackmail him later, or guilt-trip him into doing something for him, and with Kakashi, you could almost guarantee that said favour would be perverted.

Iruka could almost envision him having to suck Kakashi off in the teachers' lounge on Monday morning. The thought sent a blush sprawling across his cheeks, and Kakashi grinned lazily, then took him by the hand and started pulling him through the crowd. 

Iruka could only stare at the other man's back, confused. 

They exited the building, heading quickly for Kakashi's car. Iruka chanced a glance up and saw that the sky was churning with rain clouds, and now, it was starting to rain. He cursed under his breath, because Kakashi's car was parked all the way on the other side of the parking lot.

Just his luck, the heavens opened the second they reached the car, Kakashi sliding his key into the lock as the torrential downpour began. The silver-haired man, with his hair sodden down and straggling in his eyes, held the door of the car open for Iruka, who scuttled in, smelling the fresh scent of rain clinging to him, as he shivered because the water was freezing. He stuck to the leather interior.

Kakashi slammed the door shut and hurried about the other side of the car and, once inside, slammed the door shut, pushing his hair back out of his eyes. He grinned at Iruka, and Iruka couldn't help but grin back.  
The rain beat down on the car, pattering against the windshield. Kakashi started the vehicle, and turned on the wipers, trying to rid the window of the excess water rivulets running down it. He fastened his seatbelt. 

"Buckle up," he told Iruka, shifting the car into drive. 

Iruka stared at him, half in shock. "You're not going to drive in this, are you?" he asked, incredulous.

He could barely see out the windshield. "Bah," Kakashi said, letting the car roll forward, then revving the engine a bit. "A little water never hurt anyone."

Iruka would later argue that, as he claimed that 'a little water' and Kakashi's driving combined was near enough to give him a heart attack. He felt liked he'd screamed the entire way, sure that they'd meet their demise, either by ditch or on-coming car.

The rain started to slow, and Kakashi pulled to the side of the near-deserted side road he was on, having claimed it was a faster route home. Iruka had claimed it was a faster route to their deaths.

He unbuckled his seatbelt, and crawled carefully over the gearshift on the floor, over to the passenger side of the car. "Iruka," he said, looking at the younger man with serious eyes. "You need to calm down."

Iruka said nothing, looking blankly at Kakashi, who leaned toward him as if he were metal and Iruka was a magnet, locking their lips together, and their tongues met, meshing and melding together in a rather one-sided battle of sorts.

Iruka pulled back, blushing furiously, but went back for more, and Kakashi was only to happy to deliver. He was pulling at Iruka's trademark ponytail, letting the younger man's hair fall free for once, simultaneously licking Iruka's bottom lip, nibbling on the soft flesh once or twice for added measure.

Kakashi grinned smartly, then moved his attack downward, letting Iruka roll his head back and give a throaty groan. Tanned hands came up to tangle their fingers in silver hair.

A set of headlights rushed over the two, and they paused, pulling away from each other a bit. The lights faded, and they giggled a little, nervously, at almost being caught. Kakashi made his way back to the driver's seat.

They glanced at each other, sending each other into another fit of nervous laughter, and Kakashi finally said, "Here isn't the place," before he put the car in drive and pulled back onto the road.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
Orochimaru was glad that Itachi had been asked to babysit Konohamaru. At least he could keep an eye on the boy. Itachi had said nothing to him since their earlier encounter, and they'd been almost pointedly avoiding each other.

Orochimaru thought he could hear Itachi's great-grandmother (who was out for the evening, playing cards with some old bitties she knew) crowing in victory. Itachi only defended what he firmly believed in, and he no longer believed in Orochimaru or 'love', if one could have called what they had that. It certainly hadn't been a fairytale, but it was better than anything Orochimaru had before.

Itachi had suddenly reverted to the introverted creature he had been before, and sometimes even after, Orochimaru took him, and his cold indifference to the world made it unlikely that he would disobey anything the elderly Uchiha woman said, did or had done to him, even if he might sneer with disdain inside his head.

Itachi was currently doting, if not coldly, on Konohamaru, who seemed almost perturbed by Itachi's presence. Itachi had made him dinner, Itachi had let him watch TV, Itachi had sat there and watched it with him, Itachi was now helping him construct a castle out of cardboard, blocks and construction paper. Currently, the older boy was stitching some kind of flag that he could place at the top of the old metal curtain rod he was using as a flag pole. Itachi had already drawn and coloured a rather large dragon that he could later 'fight'.

Orochimaru found it almost disturbing as well, for Itachi did not speak, unless it was required of him, and then, the shortest answer, in the deadest tone was used. His eyes were blank and dead, like they used to be, Orochimaru remembered, when they had done schoolwork in the classroom, and his mouth was pursed in a tense line, but that expressed nothing. His face was like a mask of ice now, and not even the warmest fire could seem to melt that.

Konohamaru's play should have been loud and wild, filled with shrieks of laughter, but he was strangely silent, almost morbid, and he kept glancing over at Itachi, as if he expected the older boy to turn and lop his head off without a second's notice.

Itachi, remained impassive, not even intently focussed on his work. His natural genius let him weave the design to the fabric, without even really thinking about it. His mind was elsewhere, wandering. Where, Orochimaru wished he knew, because then, he might have been able to answer some of the burning questions that filled his mind now.

Orochimaru had been too filled with blind rage before to even think of these questions, but now, the rage had settled and saw again, mingling with bitter hate, so that the emotion was raw and tasted sour in his mouth.

Had it been better, had Itachi enjoyed himself more with that damned shark than he ever had with Orochimaru? Had it been rough, demanding, or the exact opposite to that, and. . .gentle? What had driven Itachi to that point, what had made Itachi conspire with the enemy and trade sides in the important battle?  
Why could he not ask these questions? He knew the answers meant nothing to him, should have meant nothing to him, because he did not care. Itachi, as far as he was concerned, was a thing of the past, and he could go and suck that fish bastard's cock until he choked.

So, why was he still here?

That, he wasn't exactly sure of, but perhaps, it was because he was waiting for Itachi to make things right again, to apologise and cry and have the break down that the woman - he thought that with a snort - was always supposed to have, and then, they'd fuck, and wake up, and everything would be as right as rain. 

Wishful thinking was for the stupid.

Itachi had not told him to leave yet, though, which was strange, for before when they had fought and become this toxic to each other, Itachi had deadened his voice and told him to leave, and he had, without question, for one did not question Itachi.

He pondered now, and realized just what a sick relationship they'd had, with him being cowed into submission most of the time, his partner letting him take control in bed, only with prior permission though, and then, the other few times, a battle of wits, and strength for dominance and control.

It was a power struggle, and his lover was both that and his enemy, for they were secretive around each other, careful to hide emotions and careful to bite off words in the middle of a too-revealing sentence, careful never to let their guard down and act soft, or gentle. Their love, if one could call it that, was rough and tumble, and could never be soft like the bed sheets that they'd shared.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dark eyes met blue, though the vision of the dark ones were hazed, by alcohol and confusion. The room was darker, quieter than the previous one had been, and the cushions underneath him, softer, more relenting. 

Teasing lips against parted ones, licking and nipping, in such a manner to make the other needy, but never give enough to satisfy, touches meant to make the addict crave more of them, but he could never have enough.

Lips, all over him, his lips, his ears, his cheek, his throat, down his throat and he rolled his head back, exposing the column for this lover he'd taken. A hand tugging impatiently at his shirt, for Naruto - this was Naruto, right? Right? - never had control enough to tease him, like he'd often wanted to be teased.

His shirt was gone, into the oblivion of the dark room, and he would find it, hung-over in the sunlight in the morning. Hands raked down his flesh, marking pale skin angry red. A pinch to one nipple, then the other, making him hiss between clenched teeth. 

That mouth now, coming to rest where the hands had been, taking up their territory, claiming it as its own. The tongue slid, like velvet, down from his throat and rolled across his collar bone, then down, directly over his poor tortured nipple, and around it, lapping at it, as if it were an ice cream. Then, hot and heated, the mouth closed over the erect bud and sucked on him.

Since when had Naruto learned that being tortured like this turned him on? His thoughts were fuzzy, and he let that one go for now, because he'd probably find it later.

Other side now, and his poor nipple was left, red, bitten, tortured, and with only a cool parting kiss that left him shivering at the chill to comfort it. That tongue kept sliding downward, loving each part of him, without loving the part he really wanted loved.

In his navel now, swishing around, making him scream. He bucked wildly, unable to control, unable to think why he shouldn't buck, and his hands tangled in short, rough hair. This was Naruto, this was so Naruto.

That hand, his right one, was taken hold of, and his fingers were sucked, till they were slick and saliva trailed like dew on a spider web back to the lips that enclosed the mouth that had given them the wetness.

Other hand now, same treatment, and then, with a passing lick to his exposed hip, his arousal was entirely passed over, and his feet were next in line.

It made him shudder happily, to know that Naruto had control like this, to think that the blond could toy with him, making him feel blissfully good, and he would never really reach his peak. It was slow torture, of the best kind.

And his toes were massaged by nimble fingers, then the pads of his feet, and the mouth took up the fingers' prior task and his body tingled with sensation. He may have cried out, but he wasn't really sure of his reactions anymore.

His shorts slid down, slowly, almost painfully, the material chaffing against his skin, and then, that rough touch was replaced with a gentle one, the feel of skin on skin. The treacherous tongue rolled up his leg, starting with his ankle, stopping to lavish attention on the indent of his knee, then up, up the inside of his trembling thigh and arced high, missing that spot again!

He growled, knowing now that Naruto was teasing him, playing with him, which made it worse, because that made him all the hotter. And the blond was saying such dirty things to him, when his mouth wasn't busy torturing him in others ways, and his hands were always dancing over his sensitive spots, leaving him breathless and weak.

And when it finally came to it, the love-making was slow, and torturously slow at that, and it made Sasuke scream and cry in vain, and beg for Naruto to go faster, but the blond merely grinned at him and kept with his lazy pace, despite that it was driving him insane too.

Then, in a heated moment, the fastest out of that whole session, it was all over, and Sasuke was a heap of satisfaction in Naruto's arms, not an inch of him having gone without some affection.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Temari was not at all disturbed by the idea of walking in on the two sleeping boys. Gaara, on the other hand, regarded this, for once, as something special and sacred. The sanctity of their union was spoiled by his presence there, and he knew it.

Naruto was beautiful in his sleep, like an angel, almost, with his eyes closed, his lashes fluttering just out of reach of the flesh of his cheeks, his hair more askew than usual. Sasuke, who was entwined with him, was more like a fallen angel, his features too contrasting, like yin and yang, in the moonlight, and even more elegant than Naruto, almost sinisterly so.

Temari picked her way around the room without care, carefully picking up discarded clothes, gathering them, and when finally there, sat down on the bed, beside the sleeping angels. Softly, she ran her hand through Naruto's, a strange smile twisting on her lips.

"So this," she murmured, sounding almost amused, "is Naruto."

She turned her gaze on the other boy, seemingly more enthralled with him, than with the blond. Gaara just felt like screaming at her to leave, and half of him wanted to run away as well. Instead, he stood by the door, like a stone statue, never saying anything, never moving, just watching. 

Slowly, and with some effort, Temari drew Naruto away from Sasuke, and began to dress him. And when the boy was deemed decent, she signalled to Gaara, who finally moved and cursed his sister and their task.

Naruto was removed from his room that night, and early the next morning, from Konoha altogether.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hinata stared at her feet, blushing. The alcohol had a dizzying, sickening effect on the poor girl, the effect of one who had drunk far too much. Kiba had an arm draped about her shoulders, which pretty much accounted for her furious blush.

Kiba had kissed her. Not one of those gentle, lip to lip, chaste and sweet kisses, but something entirely more feral, more deep, more promising. 

His tongue had danced in her mouth, for only seconds, but she had wanted it to last forever, and blushing furiously, she found she wanted that hot tongue plied to other places. She was still shy, but she was holding herself closer to Kiba than ever before, breathing in the heavy scent - the smell of dogs, and beneath that, musk, and something else - that was Kiba.

It was probably more the alcohol talking than herself, but she wanted him, like she had never wanted anything before. She burned with her want, and she was almost afraid, with the fear of the irrationally drunk, that she was going to roast herself alive with this burning want.

And then, he'd kissed her again, another one of those burning kisses, that left her breathless, and aching inside for more.

And when he kissed her a third time, she made that known to him, kissing him back fiercely, clumsily, for she had never kissed properly like this before, and she didn't know how.

He had looked surprised, then happy and gentle, and soft, and she smiled, and blushed, because he wanted her to feel good.

In the privacy of some bedroom, now forgotten which, they had clumsily struggled against each other, vying to make the other feel better. It hurt a bit, and it wasn't smooth, and it was all together a more embarrassing experience than what the movies made it out to be, but they'd reached the pinnacle - or at least, he did, and he'd called her name, so she'd called his, and that had to be a good thing, right?

Right?

Hinata wasn't so sure, there afterward, but that could have been her hang-over talking, and the fact that she didn't really remember, because everything was fuzzy.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Itachi was tainting that last holy shrine, that last wonderful place that was still untouched.

Konohamaru was asleep on the couch downstairs, exhausted from his play, and Orochimaru had left sometime around midnight, to go where, he did not know, and did not care. Or at least, that was what he told himself. 

He was having a much more gratifying time with Kisame, in his parents' long unused bed, the dust from an age of innocence being upturned and lifted into the air again. He told himself it was better with Kisame, but he was unsure, for it didn't seem all that fun. 

Perhaps the thrill was gone now, because Orochimaru knew his dirty little secret, which made it a non-secret.

He doubted that anyone could have made him feel the height of passion that night, for his thoughts were too heavy and muddled, like a deadweight, pulling him back and sending him the wrong way down the hill he had to climb to reach the peak.

He'd put thrill in this though, so he couldn't see why he wasn't excited, why he wasn't charged with the adrenaline that had overcome him the last time and hyper-charged his nerves.

This was wrong, this wasn't right, and the ghosts that haunted him behind his eyes screamed that he shouldn't be there, not then, not with that man. It was a holy place, and he was destroying it, tainting it by dragging it into his little plot for revenge, into his escapade for cheap thrills.

He threw a glance at the clock, and saw that it was nearly one in the morning, and he pondered where Orochimaru had gone, and when his relatives would get back. Kisame was hollering out his ending now, but he couldn't care less.

Unless, of course, his grandmother happened to hobble into the room at that exact second, and shriek in complete and utter horror.

Itachi fled the scene the second Kisame pulled out of him, hastily taking the sheets, fleeing to his own room, leaving Kisame stranded to explain, then be thrown out on his ass.

And that was exactly what happened. And as soon as the door was closed, Great-grandma Uchiha decided that it was time to lecture her great-grandson about upholding the pride of the Uchiha name.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Two could play that game.

Lips met lips, tongues duelled and tangled, and he felt no passion, only anger and the need to hit right back. Kabuto didn't mind, Kabuto knew that there was no love or emotion involved in this. He was a pawn in the scheme for revenge, and he was happy to be so.

He was honoured that Orochimaru had chosen him, of all people, to hurt Itachi, honoured that he could help Orochimaru regain something that he'd lost.

Hands in hair, pulling, tugging, that anger making him rough, making him want to hurt. Kabuto did not mind. He was happy that Orochimaru would do this to him, would put his hands near him, would touch him in this way.

It did not matter to him that there was nothing between them, except for friendship, which at times, was rickety and rocky, and often threatened to collapse, and he had never been led to believe there was anything there but that, and sometimes, he doubted that it was even there at all.

But he was happy to be the toy that Orochimaru fucked with. He liked Orochimaru, liked when he was around, and if he hadn't, he could have easily walked on by, now that Orochimaru had, or once had, Itachi.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Voices raised, anger coursing through them.

Neji and TenTen were arguing again. TenTen was sitting on the bed, her head held in her hands, her voice shaking and cracking every now and then, her body wracked by sobs. Neji's voice continued to rise, angry tones practically vibrating through it and that scared her, scared her so much more so than anything she had seen and nearly done.

He could have at least been a bit more comforting, a bit more gentle. At least she hadn't done it, for he'd have been even more upset then. He could have been glad for the fact that she hadn't done it, because she had changed her mind at that last split-second, her resolve had weakened. Had it held out a little longer, the life inside her would have been snuffed out.

But no, all he could see was that she had tried, and that was a fact he was angry at, because he had told her not to. Oh, it was a sick, sick little circle. He should have been happy that she hadn't done it, and at last, he came to realize that, with a soft sigh.

He had sat down now, wrapping an arm about her shoulders, his voice softer now, more comforting, and she sobbed into his shoulder, feeling a sense of comfort that she only derived from his presence.

At least she hadn't done it, at least she hadn't done it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


	23. In the Morning Light

(Author's Note: If you're reading, please remember to review. Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 23: In The Morning Light

Morning sunlight filtered into the room, because someone had forgotten to close the curtains. Groaning and rolling over, Uchiha Sasuke cursed whoever that was, because said sunlight was currently aggravating his already aggravated headache. He buried his head under the pillow and tried very hard not to think.

Unfortunately, his mind was thinking, and his mind was very puzzled by its thoughts. This wasn't his room, it was Naruto's. Which meant he was sleeping in Naruto's bed, which usually meant they'd actually, physically slept together, but somehow, Naruto seemed to be absent. In his hung-over confusion, he could not come up with a plausible explanation as to how he'd come to be sleeping in his boyfriend's bed, without said boyfriend.

Moving hurt his head, but thinking set him into motion. He sat up, slowly, wincing with every movement. His head hurt, his stomach churned, and every muscle in his body ached. The sunlight seared his eyes, making them throb. His pressed his hands to his eyes, as if trying to still the dull pounding.

He slithered out of bed, wrapping the sheet around him, because he felt that searching for his clothes might prove troublesome. His hazy thoughts were piecing things together now. He was naked, which meant he'd undressed, probably with Naruto in his company. So, the blond had to have been there last night.

He stumbled and nearly fell over, just barely catching his balance. He tugged the sheet tighter about himself, the chill of the winter morning's air biting into his flesh. He shuffled to Naruto's dresser, opening the drawers, blinking owlishly at the contents, trying to find something he could possibly put on, instead of wandering about Naruto's house in a sheet.

He finally settled for a t-shirt, and a pair of Naruto's shorts, and found getting them to actually be a bit of a challenge, with his body not quite functional, and Naruto being slightly smaller than him. All in all, he ended up in them, though whether the shirt was on inside out or not, he didn't really care. 

Bare feet smacking the floor, he padded out of the room, into the hall, shivering as the bare hardwood transferred the cold into his feet, turning them to ice. The house was silent, except for his own unsteady breathing, and his footsteps.

He padded downstairs, into the dining room, and stared for several minutes. The dining room, the kitchen, the living room - they all looked as though a tornado had hit it, with beer bottles, and Styrofoam cups and all sorts of other crap like that strewn about everywhere.

He wandered a little further into the room, looking at the traces of white powder on the clean, polished wood of the table. Crack, something else? He didn't know.

Lamps and chairs had been upturned, the kitchen had been ransacked, and there were several things broken, lying smashed all over the floor, so he had to be careful where he stepped, because the glass might cut his feet. 

There was nobody there, nobody there except himself, and he started to panic. Where the hell was Naruto!

His breath came a little too fast, and he had to sit down, the world starting to rotate before his eyes, making his head spin, and he felt unbalanced. He kept blinking, as if suddenly, he might blink, and the scene would change and Naruto would suddenly be there.

Everything remained the same.

He drew a deep breath, and shivered, wrapping his arms about himself. "Okay, Sasuke," he murmured to himself, trying to calm down, but the sound of his voice rang eerily in the too silent place, and that made it worse.

His heart tripped in his chest and he closed his eyes. "Okay, okay," he whispered, trying to reason things out. "Maybe Naruto went to the store. Or something. What time is it?"

Was it too early for stores to even be open? He looked at the clock, which assured him it was far too early for the stores be open yet, it only being quarter to eight in the morning. The panic started to rise again. He clenched his hands around the underside of the chair he was sitting on. 

"Okay. Maybe he went to the neighbours, or something like that, or maybe he went to. . .he went to get Konohamaru, or maybe Iruka.. . .or, or. . . "

This wasn't helping. His mind was muddled, he felt very, very confused, and very frantic. Where was Naruto? He hadn't gotten alcohol poisoning or anything like that, had he? He hadn't overdosed on something? He hadn't been rushed to the hospital, on his deathbed, right?

He felt close to tears and curled in on himself. He remembered his house being like this, so silent and cold, just after his parents died. He remembered coming home to the silence, and it had scared him, because he knew that silence was created by the void, by the space his parents no longer occupied in his life.

He felt sick, he felt scared, just like he was eight years old again, and he had just found out that his parents, that his mother and father were never coming back to him, and he was going to have to fend for himself now. It was shock, it was fear, it was the overwhelming direness of the situation coming back and killing him all over again.

He should have been able to deal with it, because he'd dealt with it before. But he had dealt with it before, and he'd never wanted to deal with it again, which was why it was so terrible to him now. He stumbled up from his seat, into the kitchen, scrubbing at his eyes, choking on a sob or two, determined not to cry.

He sat himself down in one of the kitchen chairs, curling up on it, hugging his knees to his chest, trying to get a hold of himself, trying and trying to calm himself down, and reign himself in.

He should call somebody. Itachi, maybe. No, Itachi was fighting with Orochimaru, Itachi wasn't going to help him, because Itachi was in such a -

'Shut up', he told his rambling mind.

He didn't know who else to call. He didn't know where Iruka was - he should have been here, but he wasn't, and Itachi was out of the question, and he just didn't know of anybody else who could possibly help him.

He sat there, cold and miserable in the silent morning.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Itachi's morning was not much better than Sasuke's.

Currently, he was sitting at the breakfast table, enduring a tense, angry silence. He himself was on the receiving end of Grandmother Uchiha's fierce anger and she was none too pleased with him, to say the least.

She had yet to say anything, to him, yet, but he'd heard the screaming and the yelling that Kisame had endured, and that Kurenai had to endure for an hour or so afterward. The old woman was silent now, though, as if she'd used all her words last night in her raging rant.

He had said nothing to her yet, and he wasn't going to if he didn't have to. He wasn't stupid enough to speak, even just one fatal word, so she could get the ball rolling and have it turn to rock and run him over. 

Kurenai was not looking at either of them, seemingly absorbed in the patterns she could draw in the maple syrup on her plate with her fork. The pancakes had long since gone cold.

"Uchiha Itachi," the eldest member of the family said finally, her voice enough to freeze fire.

He said nothing, did nothing, did not look up at her. The icy voice reached his ears nonetheless, ploughing on.  
"Do you have no respect for your honourable surname?" 

She stopped, as if expecting, or waiting for an answer that she knew she was not going to be graced with. He held his tongue, still refusing to look away from the safety of the tabletop.

She cleared her throat, her old voice warbling and trembling with anger now. "You've disgraced your name, and your parents' name, and worst of all, yourself. Tell me, how are you feeling right this very moment?"

Itachi, again, said nothing, though he had to bite back the snarky reply his mind supplied to her question. He was aware that her glare was focussed solely on him now, but if he could not see it, he could not be intimidated by it.

The old woman sighed, as if she were tired. "Itachi," she said finally, wearily. "You're wrong was not sleeping with a man, nor was it sleeping in your parents' room, when it has been untouched for so long, but it was sleeping with that man outside of your relationship."

Her words seemed a touch bitter, as though she still did not approve of him with another guy, but a little more relaxed, less vehemently against it than only a few days prior.

He tensed his shoulders, but said nothing still. She was saying that his worst error was to have an "affair"? Somehow, this seemed not at all like his great-grandmother, and more like a trap, or something to lure him into something that he did not want to be involved in.

He chanced a glance at her. She had stood now, and turned her back to him. It amazed him how such a frail creature, so old and wrinkled, with her back all hunched up, could wield such power, as she did over the rest of the Uchiha clan.

Before she had time to think of more to say to him, he stood and escaped from the room, retreating to the sanctity of his bedroom, where he could think more clearly.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Iruka's morning was slightly more pleasant than Itachi or Sasuke's.

The brunet teacher woke in Kakashi's bed, wrapped snugly in the blankets, trapped as they had formed a sort of cocoon around his body. He'd yawned and nestled back down, content to lie and rest in bed, for a while at least, as he never did now.

There had been footsteps on carpet, and the door had been opened, he noted, not bothering to roll over to see who was there. He knew, simply by the familiarity of the presence who was there.

Kakashi padded over the edge of the bed and sat down, carefully balancing the tray in his hands so not spill anything. He smiled gently at Iruka, his lover in his bed, for once, a person not eager to leave him, but willing to stay longer than he had to.

"Good morning," he purred, leaning down to gently brush his lips against Iruka's cheek, earning himself a sigh from the younger man.

"I brought you breakfast," he said at last, having been sitting there for a moment or two, just looking at the pretty thing in his bed.

Iruka sat up, and the gentle moment was changed, though not shattered entirely. The brunet smiled at him, a gentle, sweet smile, which was as pure as new fallen snow, and he'd come to love that smile, and often felt, that sometimes, it was a smile just for him, though Iruka often smiled that way with others.

Somehow, when it was just them there, that smile was just that much more. . .private. The sunlight danced about on the rumpled sheets, creating shadows in the valleys of the peaks and folds.

He kissed Iruka again, tasting him, before finally letting the brunet have his breakfast, though he continued to stay near to Iruka, to touch him in someway, so that they were never separate. His hand combed through those sorrel locks, rested on a tanned cheek, and stroked, gently, lovingly. Iruka sighed softly, closing his eyes and enjoying the feel, the feeling of being close to Kakashi, just like this.

Just then, the telephone rang, shattering the moment. Kakashi slid off the bed, leaving Iruka to tend to the food, his footsteps, the sound of bare feet against hardwood flooring, echoing slightly in the otherwise still apartment. 

Glancing at the clock, Iruka chewed thoughtfully on his mouthful of food, wondering who would call Kakashi at eight-thirty a.m. on a Saturday morning. He looked at Kakashi, asking his question silently, when the man walked back into the room.

"Sasuke," the silver-haired man said, evenly, flatly.

Iruka quirked an eyebrow, but Kakashi said nothing. His mouth was set in a grim line. There was a moment or two of silence, and then, Kakashi said, "He's at your house."

Iruka was about to start crowing in triumph, because he knew, had just knew, that Naruto would have had the damn Uchiha boy over, but Kakashi's voice stopped him dead. 

"He can't find Naruto."

Iruka blinked stupidly, then swallowed. "What do you mean?"

Kakashi shrugged. "That was all he said."  
Iruka said nothing, but that may or may not have been because his shirt was literally thrown in his face. 

By the time he peeled it off, Kakashi was dressed, looking ready to face the world on this new day. "I'll drive you home," he said, although his tone sounded rather disappointed.

Iruka looked down at his wrinkled shirt, smiling to himself. Kakashi was upset he was leaving, but he knew the older man understood. The boy he had adopted, his 'son', his 'little brother', and his best friend in the world, was gone, and Kakashi knew, and understood that Iruka could not just lie there in bed any longer with that knowledge. 

He sighed gently, pulling his shirt over his head, his hair charging with static at the action.

What kind of trouble Naruto had gotten himself into now, Iruka could only imagine. The blond was like a trouble-magnet. Wherever he went, trouble was never too far behind.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

When Naruto came to, he was in a car. A moving car. That was the first thing he noticed, as the scenery whizzed by him, making him feel slightly dizzy, and almost sick. The whirring of the engine buzzed in his head.

He felt as if he'd been run over by a transport truck, though he knew he hadn't had that much to drink last night at the party. The last thing he remembered was torturing his beautiful Sasuke, until. . .

Erm. He blushed and put his head back against the headrest, his eyes throbbing in their sockets. How had he ended up here? He had no idea.

He was dressed, and he wasn't in Iruka's car. This was a new car, someone else's car, someone he didn't know. "What the hell?" he mumbled, opening his eyes again and looking ahead of him, staring at the backs of the heads of the driver, and the passenger.

The driver was a blonde, with four pigtails on the back of her head. The passenger was a red-head, and he was turning about now, and he had such startling green eyes -

"Gaara?" he gasped, his eyes snapping open wide.

The red-head said nothing to him, but oh, that was Gaara alright, no mistaking it.

"Where am I?" Naruto asked, sitting up a bit.

"There's someone who wants to see you," Gaara said, as if that was the most logical answer to Naruto's question, when it didn't answer it at all.  
Naruto nearly threw a fit, as he happened to glance out the window and see that they were passing a sign, a sign that said "You are now leaving Konoha".

"Where are you taking me!" he screeched, lunging forward a bit. He felt sick, really sick now, and although the pain that he'd woken up feeling was fading, this feeling of panic was worse.

He didn't know these people, and they were taking him out of Konoha, and they wouldn't tell him where they were going or why and what the hell, what the hell. . . 

Someone wanted to see him? Who did he know outside of Konoha? Who did he know who would want to see him? He didn't know, he couldn't think of anyone who would want to see him, and he couldn't think of anyone he knew outside of Konoha.

The car kept going, the wheels kept turning and the road was full of bumps, so he kept jolting up and down, as he watched the trees go by.

They really had left Konoha, Konoha the city at least, because in the city, there were hardly any trees, at least, not like forests, like this, except for in the older end of town, where in the parks and stuff, the trees had sprung up.

After a while, he started to feel a little car sick, though he wasn't sure it was from the car. He watched idly as another car passed them, driving down this seemingly endless road to what seemed like nowhere.

He wished he had a watch, or a road sign or something that could tell him where they were going, or how long they had been going there.

He sighed, and settled down to have a nice, long nap.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Kabuto woke in the morning light, rubbing his eyes, and then discovered that the morning light had turned into afternoon light, as the clock now read 12:01, making it, indeed, afternoon.

He woke to an empty bed, and a silent home, as he usually did, but today, that should have somehow been different, or so, part of him had been hoping. His mind had realized that Orochimaru, of course, would not stay, but his foolish hope refused to drown itself in logic.

He sighed and reached for his glasses, putting them on and making the world come from fuzzy into full, sharp clarity, precision focus. Reality was suddenly so glaring that it hurt his eyes.

He got up, disentangling himself from the messy sheets, making a mental note to wash them before the day was out. Sore, and feeling a little dirtied, he padded about the room, gathering his scattered clothes, then set about finding fresh ones, because today was a new day.  
Why was he so tired of today already? He'd merely woken up, and now, he found himself wishing that the day would end, the sun would set, and he could crawl away to bed in the darkness, and overcome his consciousness with unconsciousness.

Bah, who needed anything like that anyway? He'd not been led on, he'd not been offered any promises by his serpentine friend, so why did he feel so let down and betrayed? 

'Because the snake went crawling back to the weasel,' he thought bitterly, his face wrinkling up in distaste at the mere thought.

But, again, who cared really, because they were fighting, and unhappy, so let them fight and be unhappy. He would move on and keep going. He would not be dragged backwards into their sess pool of woe.

Not even if part of him, however minuscule that part was, wanted to go.

Bad-temperedly, he kicked at a pile of books on the floor, knocking them over and scattering them. Feeling satisfied that something had suffered because he was hurt, he made his way out of the room, into the bathroom.

He looked banefully at himself in the mirror, hating the face that stared back at him. He looked like a geek, the truth, harsh, plain and simple. His glasses were oversized, his skin was pale, and his face was drawn. He might as well had buck teeth and braces, and a face full of acne, so that he could just say he was a geek and that was all.

He sighed heavily, pulling his hair back out of his face, back into a rather sloppy ponytail. Bitterly, he remembered that Orochimaru's boyfriend wore his hair in a ponytail as well, though his was sleeker, longer, and all around, more effeminate.

Why did he care?

He wasn't sure he wanted to know, he wasn't sure he wanted to get right down to the root of the problem, that was now a wound, made worse and left to fester.

He knew he didn't want to know why he cared as much as he did.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sasuke dropped the side of the garbage bag, hearing the engine of a car draw close, hearing the crunch of wheels on gravel. His heart dropped into his stomach.

Iruka was home, and this place was still a mess, and Naruto was gone too! He felt tears well up in his eyes and he sat down on the floor, feeling hopelessly pathetic, and lost. He had hoped to have the house somewhat cleaner than it was, but with him in his hung over state, that was almost a lost cause.  
He really didn't want to be ranted at, as he knew he would be, because his head already felt like somebody's drum, and he already was scared enough; he already felt bad enough, that he didn't need Iruka to make it worse. 

Footsteps, now, Iruka and Kakashi walking up the driveway. The key in the lock, turning the tumblers, and then, the door squealing on its hinges as it was opened, and then, they were inside. 

He started to cry. It was all he could do. The breakdown had been looming on the horizon all morning, and now, one more thing had upset the pile, and set him off, like fireworks. He buried his hands in his face, trying to still his cries, and dry his eyes before anything, anyone saw.

"What the hell happened here!" Iruka was screaming now, and he started to cry harder, now unable to stop the reaction.

He was in so much shit, he was just going to die, Iruka was going to kill him, wasn't he? He trashed his house with a party, had sex with his son, and now, had lost said blond.

He decided the best thing to do was make himself look as pathetic as possible, so he threw himself to the floor, sobbing pitifully, as Iruka walked into the room skirting broken glass and such.

The brunet looked, if anything, startled. "Sasuke?" he asked, and the effort it took to keep his voice as gentle as it was must have been tremendous.

He knelt down beside the boy, hesitantly placing a hand on his shoulder, only to be brushed off, and have the ebony-haired boy cry harder.

"Hey," the brunet teacher said, trying to be as soft as he could, but it was kind of hard to with the mess that surrounded him. "Sh. Why are you crying?"

He helped the mess of a teenager up, and was more than surprised when Sasuke literally threw himself into his arms, sobbing loudly, and pathetically. Iruka gently placed a hand on the messy dark head, combing out the tangles in the boy's hair, wrapping his other arm about the smaller male.

Sasuke rested his head on Iruka's shoulder, gradually letting his howls die down to whimpers. He curled his fingers into the material of the brunet's shirt, digging in, as if to stabilize himself. "I'm scared," he murmured finally, his head throbbing now with thrice the intensity as it had before he'd started crying.

"Shush," Iruka murmured, gently relaxing his grip on the teenager. "What happened here?"

"Party," Sasuke mumbled miserably.  
Iruka frowned, but said nothing to chide or scold. "Where's Konohamaru?" he asked.

"My house," Sasuke muttered, getting up in search of a tissue.

"And Naruto?"

Sasuke stopped, frozen, then started to cry again. "I don't know!" he wailed, placing his face in his hands again.

Iruka sighed. This was going to be a long day.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

She clutched his hand, tightly, as tight as she possibly could.

This was different now, this was new. This wasn't the same situation, this was a new one, and they were facing it together, instead of her watching it rear its ugly head all alone. 

The waiting room was silent, and she looked miserably at her feet, still holding his hand, resting her sweaty palm against his cool one. She wondered how he could be so calm. She wondered how he could seem so confident, when this was as terrible as it was for her to him, when it was as new to him as it was to her.

She glanced sideways at him, and he was staring straight ahead, so he didn't see her glancing nervously at him like that, looking for reassurance from him.

His profile was brave, and noble, his face set and determined. He was a knight in shining armour, there to defend her, the damsel in distress. He was a man, ready to face the world and show them what he really was.

She was so stupid, and so scared, that she couldn't be much else. She sighed softly, and looked back at the ground.

TenTen was waiting, waiting to see the doctor, but this time, Neji was there, and he was holding her hand. He hadn't complained yet, though she knew she must've bruised his knuckles by now, she'd been squeezing his hand so hard. 

She was so scared. What would the doctor tell her? What would they say to her? What would Neji say, what would Neji do?

He seemed so vehement that she wasn't to destroy what they'd created, but was he really? Would he balk, and bail, when it was too late for her to rid herself of it that easily, or would he stick it out, and persevere, like he said he wanted to?

Would he stick around, or would he leave?  
She didn't know, because she couldn't read his mind, so she had to trust his words for now, and his words sounded sincere to her. But that could have been because she was desperate for them to be sincere, so she'd closed her ears to the false tones in his voice, and everyone else could hear them, but she could not.

The hands on the clock kept moving, but it still seemed to take forever for the nurse to call her name, and for them to rise, his hand still in hers, showing that he was still there for her, and that he was still supporting her.

Together, they walked down that hall, to face the doctor, to face the future.

The most important thing, however, was that they were together.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Kiba woke, at home, in his own bed, hung-over and sick.

He remembered, fuzzily, the party last night, and that explained the hang-over, and the sickness. But how did he get home? He'd thought he'd fallen asleep somewhere in Naruto's house. That, he was almost sure of, and he did not remember how he got home.

He frowned.

He remembered something else too, something involving bed sheets, and squeaking springs, but he couldn't quite place it.

Hinata. She'd been there too, hadn't she? Yes, she had, he remembered now, and she'd been a part of the mess with the bed sheets and the bed with the squeaky springs that he couldn't quite remember.

And then, it dawned on him and he felt sickness creep up on him, more intensely than before. He'd slept with her, hadn't he? He had, he knew he had, even though he didn't remember doing that.

It wasn't a bad thing, because he liked her a lot, would even go so far as to say he loved her, but to sleep with her, especially when he was drunk, seemed so rude and. . .

He had wanted their first time together to be special, even if it did sound stupid and girly. He really cared about her, and he wanted her to feel good, wanted her to have a good time, and he wanted to show her he cared.

Now, he'd probably bungled that. Maybe she'd been just as drunk as he had, and didn't quite remember. Maybe she hadn't been drunk at all and recalled every detail. He didn't know, so he fretted about it.  
Akamaru barked in his ear, jumping up on the bed, seeing that his master was awake. He licked Kiba's ear, then his face, wagging his tail excitedly. Kiba groaned and rolled over, covering his head with the pillow.

Akamaru whined, concern showing on his puppy face and he lay down, curling up beside Kiba, as if to say, 'I'm here for you, if you want to talk.'

Kiba smirked a little, though it hurt his head to do that, and scratched behind the pup's ears, which got him an affectionate whine and a lick to the hand. He lay there, petting Akamaru, and thinking, staring at the wall.

When his headache subsided a bit, he'd call Hinata, and talk to her. He'd see what she knew, what she remembered, and then, he'd feel a bit better, he hoped, at least knowing what he'd done.

That depended on what she told him, though, really, because he was simply going to feel worse if she'd not been drunk at all, because he knew he'd have screwed up then

Stupid goddamn alcohol. What good was it anyway?

He sighed, letting Akamaru snuggle closer to him, as he wandered off, lost in thought again.

Downstairs, he could hear his mother yelling for something, but he didn't care what.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hinata was little better off when she woke up. She was wrapped in the soft, pink sheets of her own bed, and she had no idea how she'd come to be there. 

She could only hope that she hadn't stumbled home with Kiba, drunk, and woken up her parents, or anyone else for that matter, because that would be embarrassing, and troublesome, and she'd probably be grounded for the next twenty years of her life. 

She sighed softly and got out of bed. She was amazed really, that she didn't feel too ridiculously bad, because she'd always heard that hangovers were the bane of existence, but her headache was minimal, and she didn't feel sick at all.

She stumbled into the bathroom, yawning, and shut the door behind her. She looked at herself in the mirror, and nearly screamed as another memory from her "wild" alcohol-induced night came crashing back into her conscious.

She. . .and Kiba. . .

Oh, here was the nausea now.  
They had. . .

She fainted dead away, her head hitting the floor with a solid thump.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lee hadn't slept a wink. In the morning now, he was tired, wide-eyed, with his eyes sporting that bloodshot look of insomnia.

He simply could not understand why Sakura would not want to go out with him. He simply could not comprehend why she wanted to go with Ino, why she wanted to live like that.

Maybe that was part of his problem. He could never understand her, never understand why she said no, and even though he claimed to love her, he didn't understand her enough to even begin to love her like he wanted to.

He sighed. Maybe all this thinking, and deep thought and such was a product of a night without sleep.

He loved Sakura, or why would he bother chasing after her for so long, and so persistently? He loved her, he must have, because there was no other explanation for why he kept going back to her, when all she did was abuse him.

He loved her, he really did. That, he was almost sure of.

Almost.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Ino, Sakura, and Shikamaru were all sitting outside, on a snowbank. Ino and Sakura had convinced Shikamaru to go sledding with them, even though he didn't want to. Currently, they were taking a break.

The girls were laughing and giggling loudly, occasionally jabbing Shikamaru in the side to try and get him to join their side in their argument, but otherwise, leaving him to his cloud watching.

He wondered how two girls, so different from each other, got on so incredibly well. It seemed completely against nature that they should be friends, and that they should fall in love with each other.

Though, he supposed, watching another cloud drift on by overhead, that it was better all around, for him, because he didn't have to deal with their silly trivial girl things, and he found things like that all to troublesome.  
He was glad to be left out.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Orochimaru was lying to himself.

He had made up some excuse about forgetting something of his at Itachi's, and he was telling himself that he had to go get it, because it was some favourite thing of his.

His brain sneered at him, saying, "Liar. You're just going back there to rub it in his face."

And he was, and that was so true. He stomped into the house, trying to forget that he really wasn't welcome here anymore, and that he wasn't part of Itachi's life anymore, because dammit, he'd wasted too much time here just to be thrown out like that.

He shut the kitchen door, slipping off his snowy shoes and was about to head into the house when he happened to look up.

Itachi's great-grandmother was standing there, her hands on her hips, her mouth set in a scowl. He started to put on the shoe that dangled loosely from his hand, ready to retreat. 

"You," she said, in her creaky old voice. "Are going to fix things up with him."

Somehow, he knew exactly what she meant, and somehow, he wasn't going to vehemently object, like he was supposed to.

He nodded in agreement and put the shoe down.

- - - - - - - - -


	24. Finding Out

(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Remember, if you're reading, please review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 24: Finding Out

The car slowing down was what brought Naruto back to the world of the awake. He'd fallen asleep sometime between eleven and midnight, and when he'd dozed off, the car had still been going like a bat out of hell.

Now, they were slowing down, stopping even, and then, they turned, and the blond lurched into the side of the car, narrowly avoiding a painful collision with the panelling. The tires crunched over gravel and then, the car stopped altogether.

The engine was cut, the car was put in park, and there was the sound of someone undoing their seatbelts quickly, and the metal part of the fastener clunked as it hit the inside of the car. The car door squealed open, then slammed shut again, and was quickly followed by the passenger door following suit.

Footsteps on the gravel now. Naruto closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. The door to his left opened and somebody prodded him. "Is he asleep?" the girl asked, the driver of the car.

Gaara didn't say anything, but probably shook his head, because the girl slapped him, and then, he opened his eyes. "Good morning Naruto," the blonde girl said. 

He glared, as best he could, because his cheek was aching like there was no tomorrow, so it made squishing his face up a bit painful. "Where am I?" he growled.

"Just get out of the car," Gaara said, monotone and his face as blank as ever.

Rubbing his cheek, Naruto got up, glaring at Gaara, and then, at the girl. Finally, looking at the blonde, he said, "Who the hell are you?" 

She rolled her eyes slightly. "I'm Temari, Gaara's older sister."

She tugged on his arm, dragging him toward a building, which he now noticed was a very shabby looking house. The front porch looked like it was about to cave under the weight of the snow on it, and the shutters on one of the windows was hanging on by a thread, crookedly. The driveway, beneath his feet, was cracked and there were even some potholes in it.

He didn't dare resist Temari's tug, because the ground was icy and if he happened to slip and fall, well, then he might be in for it. He threw a helpless look back to Gaara, who was following them, merely looking bored. The green-eyed boy pretended not to take notice of him.  
Temari had dragged him up the lop-sided cement steps now, and they were standing under the creaky porch, in front of a worn wood door, with the stain peeling off of it. Naruto watched idly as Temari fished around for a key, then unlocked the door and dragged him inside.

The house was small, dark and it smelled funny, slightly musty, as though it hadn't had fresh air through it for ages and ages. The carpet was dark green, and old, and dirty, and the walls were a drab grey colour. He followed Temari's example, taking off his shoes at the front door and letting them get lost in a pile of footwear on one of the slush-stained mats near the door. He heard the door close behind him, and Gaara was right beside him, breathing down his neck.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, and he nearly shuddered, but stopped himself, as Temari forayed further into the strange house. Naruto wondered where he was. He knew that they had left Konoha, but outside Konoha, where was there to go?

He didn't know, so he kept walking, the rug almost hard and unforgiving under his bare feet. He followed Temari mindlessly, because he didn't know where he was going. Gaara was following him, making sure he didn't bolt, or run, or anything like that.

Temari turned into an open room on the left, leading them into the small, cramped kitchen. There was somebody sitting at the kitchen table, with the morning paper, and a cup of coffee. The headline of the paper read, "The Suna Herald". Naruto swallowed.

He was in Suna, which was a long way off from Konoha, even by car. He was scared suddenly. He was alone here, with these psychos, with none of his family or friends around to keep him safe, or save him.

What the hell did they want with him in Suna anyway?

They apparently weren't going to say too much, because Temari was yawning and stretching, and now, sitting down with the boy at the table, who was dressed all in black, and had his face painted in purple and white.

Temari rolled her eyes and said, "Kankuro, I really wish you'd take that make-up off."

"Pftt," the boy in black said. "I have a show today."

Naruto stared, confused. "He's in theatre," Gaara said finally, alleviating Naruto's bafflement. 

It still didn't diminish Naruto's apprehensions about being here, however. He felt that for every second he spent standing there, he was closer to them turning on him and butchering him, like what happened in those cop dramas on T.V.

Everything stayed too sated for too long. It was too calm, with Temari and Kankuro just chattering away over the morning coffee, and he and Gaara just standing there, as though there was nothing wrong.

At last, there was a hand on his shoulder, and he jumped, sure that the murdering was about to commence. When nothing more happened, he turned about, very slowly, just waiting to see Gaara standing there, with a knife in his hand.

The red-head did not have a knife in his hand, thankfully. Instead, he murmured, "This way," before starting off down the hall, leaving Naruto to decide whether to follow or not.

Throwing one last look at Temari and the other boy, he decided that he might be safer to follow Gaara, even if the boy had a temper and an icy demeanour even worse than Sasuke's. His feet made virtually no noise on the rug.

Gaara paused outside a closed door, which was wooden, and battered, probably as old as the house itself. "Be quiet," he said, then opened the door, which squealed on its hinges.

Naruto crept in after the red-head, who shut the door behind them. There was a moment or two where Naruto just stood there, trying to process what was going on.

"She wanted to see you," Gaara said at last, his voice barely above a whisper.

Naruto frowned. He didn't know the person lying in the bed, because this was a bedroom, and he was certain that he hadn't known them before either. Was this some sort of joke? Was this some sort of aunt-twice removed or something?

He had no idea, but he'd never seen the person before in his life.

She was sick, that much was obvious, from her pale, drawn visage, to her straggling hair, to the frailty of the hands that rest lightly on the coverlet of the bed. Her face was sharp, her features made all the more prominent by how thin she was.

Naruto shook his head, and looked back at Gaara. "I don't know her," he practically growled.

Gaara looked at him in a way that said, 'You should.' Naruto had the urge to stick his tongue out at the red-head. He was being a prick.

"Well?" Naruto said, his voice getting louder. "Aren't you going to tell me who she is?" 

Gaara held a finger to his lips, motioning for Naruto be quiet. The blond was damned if he'd listen to that jerk.

"Like hell I'm gonna shut up! Tell me who the hell she is, or take me home now!"

From the look on Gaara's face, he was half expecting the boy to maul him to death, but it didn't happen. Instead, the red-head sighed and opened the door. "Out," he said.   
Naruto obeyed, stalking out ahead of Gaara, who followed him, glaring at the hot-tempered blond. "I told you to be quiet," he said, his voice as flat as ever, even though he was hot with anger. 

Naruto had turned around to face him now, eyes narrowed into slits. "And I told you to tell me who she was, or take me home. So take me home!"

Gaara shook his head. "Have you no respect for the wishes of the dying?"

"No!" Naruto cried, throwing his hands up in the air. "I don't want to be here, I don't know you people, I don't care! I just want to go home!" 

A queer half-smirk came to Gaara's lips, but he said nothing more, breezing by the blond, leaving him to stew and sulk. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Okay, thank you." 

Iruka hung up the phone with an exasperated sigh. He'd called everyone that Sasuke could remember had been at th party, but none of them could recall seeing Naruto, after Sasuke had said they went upstairs.

Stupid teenagers and their stupid drinking. 

Sasuke was sitting at the table, wringing a tissue through his hands, shredding it absentmindedly. Kakashi was sitting beside him, though he was looking at Iruka instead of Sasuke.

The black-haired creature looked like he was on the verge of tears again, and had been crying, off and on for the past half-hour or so. Iruka had loaned him his bathrobe, for now, and it was far too big on him. He looked too much like a scared child for Iruka's comfort.

He supposed he could sympathize with Sasuke. He too, had lost his parents when he was still young, and while he hadn't dealt with it the same way that Sasuke had, he still could feel the repercussion of that loss in his life to that very day.

Why else would he feel so sorry for the boy? He looked down at the phone book, not that he could see any of the numbers, but so he could give his eyes something else to do, other than look at the youngest Uchiha and water.

Part of him, was almost happy this had happened. Not that he wasn't worried sick about Naruto, but because it was, wasn't, exactly good for Sasuke, but the way he'd been dealing with the death of his parents for the last seven years was not one that was good for his mentality. Sasuke had never really let go, never broke down to anyone and just cried, but, instead, had kept everything he felt bottled up inside him. He had never really moved on from that loss.

Realizing he'd been standing and thinking too long, Iruka set down the phone and sat down with a sigh. "I've tried everybody. Nobody's seen him."

Sasuke gave a little strangled cry, and put his head down on the table, trying very hard to reign himself in. Iruka wanted to smack him and tell him to just go ahead and cry. It was better that he got this out now, than later, or never.

Kakashi rocked back in his chair, looking at the ceiling. "Do you think we should call the cops?" 

Iruka sighed. It was the only thing left to do, really, because Naruto was missing. However, there still was one place they had yet to check. He looked at Sasuke, who had sat back up, biting his lip.

"Sasuke, why don't you go get dressed? We'll take you home. We have to pick up Konohamaru yet, and maybe Naruto's there."

Sasuke gave him a look that said, 'I doubt it', said, "I doubt it," but went anyways, padding uneasily from the kitchen, through the dining room and upstairs.

Poor thing probably had a splitting headache, and all he would bet that all that crying wasn't helping that one bit.

"Do you really think he'll be at the Uchihas'?" Kakashi asked, his voice half mocking, half serious.

Iruka kept his gaze on the table and shook his head. "I don't know where he could be. This is so messed up. Who would take Naruto? And why?"

Kakashi shrugged. "Maybe they were thugs who own a slave trading ring, and they're going to sell Naruto to some guy in a foreign country as a sex slave."

Iruka glared. "That makes me feel a lot better, Kakashi. Thanks," he spat sarcastically.

Kakashi held up his hands. "What? I was joking, Iruka! Joking! Nobody's going to sell Naruto as a sex slave!"

"They'd better not!" the brunet hollered, getting up and leaving the kitchen. "I'm going to. . .to. . ."

Iruka was up the stairs before he thought of an excuse for leaving the kitchen. Kakashi chuckled to himself, and rocked back more on the chair, only this time, he rocked back a little too far, and the chair tumbled over backwards, Kakashi going with it.  
Pity no one was there to see that.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Konohamaru sat on the floor, watching some cheesy Sunday morning rerun. He hated the show, but he didn't dare say anything, because the old lady, and the younger lady with red eyes scared him. A lot.

Also, as an added scare-factor, that creepy snake guy was prowling around upstairs somewhere, supposedly, according to the old lady, 'talking' to his babysitter. Konohamaru didn't know if the old lady's hearing was any good, but he'd heard a lot of things being thrown around and breaking.

He wasn't sure if that was 'talking'.

He was more than ecstatic when the doorbell rang, and when the red-eyed lady opened the door, there was Iruka, ready to take him home. He was glad, because he wasn't sure he could have taken another minute in this place.

He dashed out the door, with all his stuff, greeting Iruka happily, exclaiming about how happy he was to be going home, and so on and so forth.

Sasuke, still nursing a headache, skulked by him into the house, hoping to go in, go upstairs and get some sleep, without being apprehended by anyone or anything. 

His luck was not so good.

Great-grandmother Uchiha was standing there, her hands on her hips, glaring at him. He could only imagine how much worse his headache was about to become. 

"Where have you been all night, Sasuke?" she asked, her voice high-pitched and angry.

Sasuke mumbled a reply, which even he was unsure about after that. The old woman glared at him some more. He would have glared back but his headache told him not to make any facial expressions or strain his eyes any more than he had to. 

So, instead he brushed by her, grumbling, "None of your business."

He stalked upstairs, his footsteps ringing in his ears and he wished he hadn't stomped on each footfall, because his head was throbbing by the time he got to the top. He slunk into his room, ready to lie down and just sleep off the rest of this horrible day.

No sooner had he shut his door and locked it, than there was a thump on the wall. He looked at the wall, slightly bemused, then heard the screaming that had momentarily taken a break just before he'd come in, start again.  
He groaned and flopped down on his bed. Why was today so fucked up?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sakura could barely hear Ino. The girl sounded so far away from her, even though she was just on the other end of the telephone line.

It was hard to concentrate on anything, right then and there, because of everything going on, because she felt so incredibly good. It was wrong to be doing this, wrong to be accepting this, but. . .

How could she not when it felt so good?

She deserved to be pampered, she deserved to be treated like the princess she was supposed to be in this fairy tale.

Lee was pampering her, so why not? It wasn't her money, it wasn't her hard earned cash, so she could just sit there and look pretty while Lee kissed her pretty, painted feet.

But it was wrong to accept these gifts, because Lee was only trying to win her affection, and no matter how much money he spent on her, it was not right and she would not love him.

So, why did she accept, then? Because it felt good. She wouldn't love him, but by doing this, she was leading him on, which would end up hurting Ino because she'd believe Lee, and what he believed wasn't true. It was such a tangled, intricate web of lies that even she herself was too wrapped up in it to begin unravelling it, even just slightly. 

This was so, so wrong, but why did it have to feel so good? Why was it that when she screwed up, it felt so wonderful that she wanted to do it again?

She sighed heavily. So wrong, yet so good. . .Why did she always seem to get herself into trouble? Why was she always the one who had to sacrifice what she wanted and what she liked to be the angel?

Everyone else got away with doing things they shouldn't have, but nobody seemed to care what they did, but when she did something wrong, it was all hands up in arms, Sakura's screwed up again!

Oh, Sakura screwed up again. Why didn't they gossip about other things that were wrong, like Sasuke and Naruto sleeping together? There was something wrong, but nobody ever said anything about it, and it was perfectly okay when it wasn't.

Oh, she'd just screwed up again.  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Well, this was stupid.

Naruto was lying on the bottom bunk, with Gaara above him, idly staring up at the bottom of the mattress above him.

It was well past midnight, but he couldn't sleep, not here, in this place. It was too strange, too weird, and too unlike home for him to be able to just go to sleep.

So, he lay there, awake.

He had been here a total of twelve hours, and he still knew nothing about why he was there, or the dying woman in the master bedroom. It wasn't like he cared or anything, but still. Should he have at least known her?

He couldn't think of anyone he'd ever seen that looked like her, and he couldn't remember any names that seemed to fit her appearance. It was making him angry. Why the hell couldn't he remember, if he was supposed to know her!

She had asked for him, so she obviously knew who he was. And if she knew him, he should have known her, but he didn't and it made him mad!

Gaara shifted above him, and then, the green-eyed boy was half hanging over the side of the railing, looking in at him with his eerie eyes that were like gemstones in the moonlight. "Can't sleep?" he asked, then swung down, and crawled into bed with the blond.

They were silent for a moment or two, and then Naruto realized that they were too close together. His elbow was bumping against Gaara's chest. He scooted away.

They were silent for some time more, just sitting there, in the dark. Neither one had much to say to the other. Naruto didn't want to talk to Gaara, because the boy had been the cause of trouble for him in the past, and now, in the present.

Gaara, on the other hand, seemed pensive, as though he was about to say something, but wanted to phrase it delicately, and he was looking for the exact words to put Naruto's fears on hold, and calm him, just even for a few minutes.

But obviously, what he wanted to say was not something calming or soothing, and it was bound to get Naruto up in a knot, because it was not delicate news.

Naruto waited, anxiously, for the red-head to speak his mind, to open up to him and tell him what was going on here.

Gaara sighed, at long last, and looked up from the floor. His eyes bored into Naruto's. "Naruto," he whispered, as though someone might hear them.

Naruto watched him, mesmerized by those green eyes. The pupil seemed to be swallowed by the irises. Gaara's mouth was moving, and words were coming out, but all Naruto could see were those eyes.

"Do you want to know what's going on here?"

The blond looked contemplative for a moment, the swallowed nervously and nodded, still looking into the red-head's eyes, unable to look away. Gaara leaned over, and in a second, those eyes were gone, hidden beneath heavy lids.

Their lips met, one second, two, three, and then, they parted again, and Naruto drew a deep, wispy breath. He looked at Gaara, and mouthed, shakily to him, 'Why?' because he didn't trust his voice not to quake if he spoke.

Gaara said nothing, then said, "Do you want to know why you're here?"

When Naruto nodded, he continued, saying, "Then what I tell you cannot ever be told to anyone else."

Naruto wasn't sure he liked the sound of that, but he nodded anyway, and then, waited for Gaara to continue.

The red-head closed his eyes and started to tell the long, intricate tale.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The baby was healthy, and that was all she needed to know, to go on like this.

Neji was there, by here side, and it was okay, because he was there, and he was okay, and the baby was okay too, so she was always.

She was okay, because the baby was healthy and it wouldn't need any special care, it wouldn't need any more time than she had, it wouldn't need anything more of her than she could provide.

It was a wonderful feeling now, the thought that she was giving life to something that was hers, and would always be hers, whether it knew it or not, because it was a part of her, would have been a part of her for nine months, when that time came to pass. 

She felt safe and secure then, because she had Neji backing her, keeping her safe from the ridicule she was going to receive for being a teenage mother, but she did not care, because it was all alright, in the end.

She wasn't allowed to play a god, because this was life and life was something valuable. She had been given something precious, a child, and it would have been rude to ask to return the unwanted gift. There were many women who wanted children, yet could not have them.

Still, there were days when she didn't want it and wanted to send it back to where it came from, and there were days when she hated that she hadn't killed it when she had the chance, but for some odd reason, those days seemed to take a backseat to the days where she loved the fact that she was a mother.

Sure, she was a teenager, but that did not matter to her. She and Neji were together to provide the stability of a couple older than themselves, and Neji had his family's fortunes at his fingertips. They were secure enough to bring something that precious into their midst.

They were having a baby.

She couldn't have been happier that this was the truth, and not some thing she would want and long for in the future, only to find that she couldn't have one, and her hopes and dreams would be crushed, and she would die a barren old woman, who had never known what it was like to be a mother, and she would leave Neji, her love, without an heir to carry on the family name.

Better sooner than never, she decided.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"You stuck-up little whore!"

"You lying asshole!"

"Jerk!" 

"Fuck-face!"

"Slut!"

"Back-stabber!" 

"Drag queen!"

"Pole dancer!"

Itachi and Orochimaru had run out of good insults to throw at each other a long while back, and now, they were just screaming whatever foul word happened to find its way from their brain to their tongue.

The mirror was broken, its shattered glass all over the floor, and they were both sporting bleeding cuts on their feet because of it. They had scuffled a bit, biting, punching, kicking, tugging at each other's hair, screaming all the while.

Books, and pillows and other things lay all about the room, having been thrown at each other by the violent ex-lovers.

The room was in a sorry state, and so was their relationship.

"Why the hell did you do that!"

"Why wouldn't I!"

"You did it first!"

"So! You needed to be put in your place!" 

"You're the one out of place!"

"I wasn't the one with my nose out of joint because of Kisame!"

"So what! That slimy fish was just waiting to get his hands on you!" 

"Yeah? And that gives you the right to cling to me like a scared little boy!"

They circled each other, wary of the others barbed words, eyes narrowed, faces flushed with anger and exertion. They'd been warring like this for most of the morning, and now, the clock was saying it was nearly two in the afternoon, from its new home on the floor.

Growling and snarling, they were like wild animals, one who had tread into the other's territory unwelcome and uninvited.

They were vicious, ruthless and brutal, but they had to be, to get through the other's thick skull, to make it inside their head, to screw with their thoughts and try to straighten out that warped path of thought.

"I hate you!"

"I hate you too!"

"Good! So fuck off!"

"Make me!"

And running out of sensible, intelligent adult things to say, they reverted to the grade school style of fighting, in which the other told one to 'make them' and the other did try, and sometimes, succeeded.  
And hate was such a strong word, such a powerful word that it seems to overpower everything else that was said. Some words possess power like that, the power to hurt, depending on how said, when said, and why said. Hate, however, possesses this power every time it is said, no matter the variables.

It stings, like poison in flesh, like salt in an open wound, and it gets inside, and then, it burns away everything else, leaving nothing but hurt and anger. And the hurt turns to anger, because it doesn't want to be weak, and the anger takes the hurt and makes it anger too, so that anger is all that is left inside that burnt pathway, and it is the only thing known, and then, when all has been said and done, the hurt turns inside out on anger, and becomes hurt again, taking all the anger with it, and making its own. 

Cyclic, like the seasons, this drama is played out whenever one comes into contact with the other they walk this hate-love-hate line with, and over and over again, hurt changes to anger, and back to hurt, and anger to hurt, and back to anger.

But how to hate something when you love also that same thing? How to love when you hate that which you love? It becomes confusing and in confusion, anger takes hold and lashes out, because of the frustration rooted in the confusion, the frustration of not being able to comprehend.

So it went, and so it has gone, for all eternity, and the fight between these two lovers was none above any others that had been played out in the past, and none that should be played out in the future.

But for then and there, that fight was monumental.

They fought, and fought, both physically, and verbally, and then, when all was said and done, they were left to curl in on themselves and think back on what they had said, what they had done. They winced when they thought of how the punch they'd thrown was going to leave a dark bruise, or how the words they'd hurled at each other like knives were lined with poison, poison that would still hurt and cause pain tomorrow, and the day after, until the wound was healed.

In the silence that followed the breaking of the storm, they had naught to do, but look back on what they had accomplished, on what they wanted to accomplish, and then, confusion came into play.

Did he want to stay? Did he want him to stay? Was it time to move on, and keep going, time to drift apart? Should they resolve this and get back together?

It was confusing, and neither quite knew what to do. They knew they had wronged, and they knew to fix it, something had to be done.

But what?  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Gaara tried to remember all he had been told, and piece it into a logical story for Naruto to understand. He understood it himself, because he had lived with the knowledge and he had known, and so on and so forth, or rather, he understood it simple because he did.

"Your mother," he started, then, with one look at Naruto's expression, knew that this was not a good way to start. 

He sighed. How to begin then? "Your father," he said, looking at Naruto, and finding a very similar reaction, gave up on trying to find a way to begin this that Naruto liked.

This was probably going to be painful anyways.

"Your father," he said again, and noted that Naruto was getting impatient. "Is dead, isn't he?"

Naruto nodded, and Gaara sighed in relief. For a second or two, he'd wondered if they'd gotten the wrong Naruto (how many could there be) and this boy's father wasn't dead.

"Your father. He died of a sickness, right?" 

Naruto nodded. He hoped Gaara didn't ask him what, because he didn't know and he was fuzzy on his father anyways. He remembered little to nothing of the man at the best of times.

"Your father died of AIDS," Gaara said, and Naruto opened his mouth to protest how that was possible, and how Gaara, of all people, knew, but the red-head ploughed on ahead.

"Your mother and father were barely married a year when you were born, Naruto. Your mother had been married before, and she had three children with her other husband. She was older than your father."

Naruto stared at Gaara, unable to say anything, wondering how the red-head knew this kind of stuff anyways.

"Your father. . .was sleeping around. And you mother had just filed for divorce when he got sick, so she stuck it out with him, until he died. You were barely three when he died."

Naruto nodded, looking down at the sheets contemplatively.

"Your mother gave you up for adoption, then, because she couldn't stand to look at you - not the with the way you resembled her dead husband, and packed up and went back to her other three children."

Naruto said nothing. That was confusing. Why didn't she just take him with her then?  
"Your mother's on her deathbed right now, Naruto."

The blond looked at Gaara, confusion written all over his face. "How. . .?" 

Gaara closed his eyes and twiddled his thumbs a bit. "The woman in the other room. . .that's your mother, Naruto." 

"**What?**!" the blond yelled, throwing himself at the red-head, and shaking him by the shoulders. "You're joking right! You're joking, this is a joke! You're lying to me!" 

"I'm not lying," Gaara said evenly.

Naruto let go of him, feeling shock start creeping through him. "But. . .but," he sputtered, unable to string together a coherent sentence.

Gaara sighed. "That's why she asked to see you. She wanted to apologize for what she did before she died."

Naruto fumed. "Why!" 

The woman had done what she'd done, and now, she'd dragged her now-teenage son back into her life, so he could lose her all over again, just so she could have a clean pallette when she croaked! He didn't think that was right! What kind of twisted logic was that!

Gaara sighed. "Try to calm down, Naruto. She doesn't want to make amends with you, or anything stupid and sappy like that. She just wants to say sorry, and then, just to see how you've grown up."

Naruto wasn't listening. Besides, that was just as bad as wanting to 'make amends' as Gaara said. He turned about, crossing his arms and sulking. This was so stupid! Why couldn't she have just died, and left him out of it?

He would have been better off, wouldn't he?

"Who were her kids?" Naruto asked, suddenly, finding his voice and something to break the terse silence with through all his anger and confusion. 

"Temari, Kankuro and myself," Gaara said softly, and Naruto lurched forward, making a face.

He was half-brothers with Gaara, of all people! He was related to these psychos! 

"Guh," he grumbled. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight." 

"Goodnight," Gaara said, but sat there for a moment too long, before finally going back to his own bed.

Naruto was left to stew in peace.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


	25. Reflections

(Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews! If you're reading, please remember to review. Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 25: Reflections

The snow, unlike rain, was quiet as it fell to earth. It collected in Sasuke's dark locks, the perfect contrast to them. He had to keep blinking, in order to clear the snowflakes collecting in his eyelashes.

His shoes barely made a sound, collecting snow and packing it down under the treads. He sighed softly, and shouldered his book bag, trying to distract himself.

He really, really did not want to go to school today. He couldn't deal with the loud of it. He couldn't deal with the confines of it, with the chattering girls, with the boys showing off, with the teachers yakking on into oblivion.

He couldn't even fathom life in school without Naruto. The boy had been gone for a solid week now, with no clue as to where or when he went. Sasuke hadn't wanted to leave the confines of his room, not for the past seven days, and he certainly did not want to try school today.

In his room, he could just curl up and cry, or sleep, or contemplate. He could try and keep his mind blank, but at school, he would be forced to think, and thinking seemed to send his mind into dangerous territory. He would be damned if he cried in the middle of class.

Today, however, he needed to go to school, because he needed to find out what classes he had, with what teachers, and to get them changed if need be, and all that sort of crap. Today was the first day of the second semester.

It seemed like the start of a whole new era. Iruka was a miserable pit of worry and self-loathing. Kakashi was silent, and he seemed far away. Itachi and Orochimaru were still fighting, their war having lasted for far too long now. He had relatives, albeit relatives he didn't like, staying with him. Worst of all, Naruto was gone, as if he'd transferred schools in the middle of the year.

He sighed. He didn't like thinking about Naruto, because it brought back all these thoughts, about what had happened over the course of the past five months or so. It seemed like so much had happened in such little time, and now that he looked back on it, it almost made his head spin.

The worst thing he remembered was that. . .day, in the alley, with Gaara and. . .

The blood, the pain, and everything became painfully clear to him now. He wanted Naruto back, now, to help protect him from the world. He was stupid and scared in this world, because he couldn't deal with people, because all people had ever done was hurt him. Naruto had been hurt too, by people, and he just kept going back at them, with determination that was admirable.

He'd been hurt one too many times now though to put any trust, any faith in humans. They scared him, and he did not want to hurt like that again. His parents, and his family had betrayed him, Gaara had torn him to pieces, and now, Naruto had left him to fall apart again.

It hurt, not like a pain-hurt, like a twisted ankle, or broken arm, but more of a dull ache inside his chest that even painkillers couldn't seem to douse. He remembered, almost vividly now, feeling this way after his parents died.

All he had wanted to do was cry, to hide from the world forever, and to never let it hurt him again. He really was blind, though, because he had opened up, only to get hurt more than he had previously.

His hand, frozen by the wind, touched the icy metal of the door, pulling it open and letting him into the warmth of the school. He knocked the rapidly melting snow off his shoes, and walked farther into the hall, the door falling shut behind him.

He made his way into the music room, pushing open the door and shutting it behind him, almost silently. Iruka was at his desk, shuffling papers, the handouts for his home room class. Sasuke wondered if it was hard for a teacher, a person who had so many people, both good and bad, waltz through their life in the span of a few short months.

At least a teacher wasn't romantically involved with those dancers.

The brunet teacher looked up at last from his papers, seeing the silent boy making his way down the music room steps. "Ah, Sasuke, we don't have a practice this morning," he said, baffled by the dark-haired boy's appearance. 

He glanced at the clock. It was only five to eight.

Sasuke sat down in one of the chairs, sighing heavily, staring at the boring patterns on the stained carpet. "I know," he mumbled, still unsure of why he was here, so early.

Iruka was hurt too, and didn't that just make the pain worse? They were both hurt, so they'd just moon over it for ages, and they'd never get over it. He sighed again, scuffing at the carpet with his shoes.

Iruka wanted to say something to him, but couldn't think of anything to say to the teenager that would at least be of some comfort. He was barely holding himself together, if only for Konohamaru's sake. 

With nothing to say, Iruka returned to shuffling papers around. Sasuke sat, looking at the floor dejectedly, absorbed in his thoughts.  
A few minutes later, the door creaked open and in walked Sakura, peering about cautiously, as the classroom was almost empty. "Good morning, Iruka," she called, softly, and almost far from cheerily.

She looked down and saw her former crush, Sasuke, sitting in the front of seats, the only other occupant of the room. With renewed vigour, she dashed down the steps and took a seat beside him, smiling brightly.

"Are you in this class too?" she asked him, practically beaming.

Her smile fell when he shook his head 'no'. She blinked in confusion. "No? Then why are you here?"

Sasuke and Iruka looked at each other, and then, Iruka cleared his throat, drawing Sakura's attention away from the other teenager. When the teacher too said nothing, Sakura narrowed her eyes in thought.

There was something fishy going on here. There was a secret and she was going to find out what it was.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

She couldn't look him in the eye. She simply couldn't. She hadn't spoken to him since that night, and she was far too embarrassed about it to speak about it with him.

So, she looked at the ground, shuffling her feet every so often, just to make it look interesting. She clutched her binder tightly to her chest, as if it was a shield to save her from him.

Even talking to him, hearing his voice, made her flush with embarrassment. His voice had said some things to her that night, some things she would rather not hear again. 

Listening to him made her remember that night, when she didn't want to remember it, because it was embarrassing.

"Hey, look at me."

Oh, no, she couldn't do that. She closed her eyes and shut her mouth tight, desperate to end the conversation. 

"Eh? Oh, fine. Whatever."

He was walking away now, which was good, because she didn't have to talk to him any more, she didn't have to listen to him any more. She was so happy, because he was gone now, leaving her all alone to sort herself out.   
But he was upset, and that was bad. He was angry, and that was never good, because he was vicious when he was angry, and she didn't want him to get into trouble.

She sighed, slumping down in front of her locker. Today was going to be a long day.

Hinata rested her head on her cheek, looking at the world on a slightly obscured angle.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Well, well. Wasn't this just lovely?

In all reality, it wasn't. It was probably going to be hell, for the next five months. Itachi almost felt sorry for the teacher, for once, because dealing with himself and Orochimaru within twenty-five feet of each other was not going to be a pleasant thing.

They hadn't spoken in days, let alone looked at each other. They were bitter toward each other, rude and their actions spoke louder than their words.

To seat them side by side was probably a fatal mistake for the teacher, as the end result would probably be that the two students murdered each other during one of his classes.

Ah, stupid teacher, it was his own fault anyways, for being stupid.

Orochimaru was glaring at him, sneakily of course, because Orochimaru was a sneaky bastard. Itachi sneered, but looked straight ahead, refusing to lock eyes with the older boy, because that was what he wanted.

Itachi wasn't about to play into what Orochimaru wanted him to do. He wasn't his bitch. And he'd proved so with his actions last week. 

He almost shuddered in remembering that. It seemed so long ago, and now. . .so wrong, somehow. He supposed Gran really wasn't helping his mentality after what had happened. He still couldn't believe he'd been caught.

This was all so stupid. Stupid Orochimaru, he was still glaring at him. He was going to kick his ass if he kept looking at him that way.

Orochimaru was focussed on Itachi, though for other reasons. He was still mad at Itachi, yes, he was still going to murder Itachi, yes, but he simply felt that this was a stupid thing to be fighting about any longer.

They should simply get over it, and get on with their lives. They were either going to go their separate ways, or get back together. This feuding was doing nothing but holding them in the same place, keeping them tethered to each other when they wanted to be free of those chains.  
He didn't know why he felt compelled to even try anymore. His last attempt had ended up with them yelling and screaming and breaking a lot of stuff, and avoiding each other ever after. It almost seemed pointless to try and stop this fight. They were pretty much severed as it was.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The teacher called out the names on the attendance list, and there was one name he was dreading to hear. He was steeling himself to hear it, and it was torture as to whether or not he may hear it. He sat there, listening to the teacher's annoying nasal voice, waiting for that name to be called. What he was dreading more, was that there would be no answer.

The name was called, and, like a few others before it, was followed by a three second silence that seemed to span five minutes or more. Everyone glanced about a bit because, while Naruto was a loudmouth, a brat and a bit of a jerk, he had never missed his classes, unless he was sick.

Sasuke felt like crying. The silence was just a solid reminder that Naruto was gone.

Then, the teacher's voice filled that void, calling out another name, moving on. He should too, he should move on, call out another name, but he didn't want to find another name to say. He wanted to say Naruto's name over and over forever, and never say anything else.

He didn't want to let another person in, he didn't want to learn another name, he didn't want to say another name with the ringing affection he'd eventually managed to stuff into six letters of that name, in his own stunted way.

No, he didn't want to let go, get over it and move on. It was too painful, it was stupid to try and do that again. He wasn't masochistic and he wasn't stupid. Why would he willingly try and hurt himself again? Loving only meant hurting and now that he had been taught that harsh lesson twice, he was loathe to try and learn it again.

Unlike Naruto, he understood things, more quickly than others.

But it was human nature to be stupid and do stupid things. It was human nature to fall in love, to hurt themselves by being in love, and end up being alone. It was the never ending cycle of love and hurt, and no matter how much he didn't want to be a part of it, he was a part of it, because he was human, and thus, possessed human nature.

Ah, he was an idiot for not killing his emotions like he wanted to, when his parents had first died, when he had just wanted to be numb inside. He was an idiot for letting himself get caught up with Naruto.

All his thoughts were very dreary and depressing and the day he could see outside the classroom window wasn't helping much. The vaulting sky was grey and dull, the colour of his eyes. What a boring, dull colour.  
He sighed heavily, letting his pencil absently scribble on a sheet of blank paper, tainting it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was in the early morning light that Naruto slipped into that death silent room, assured that he would not say anything, that he would not do anything.

Early morning light filtered through the curtains, but the room was still dark, bathed in the scent, the light of death.

He was supposed to be in school that morning, and he wanted to be. He wanted to go running in the school and hug Iruka and wave to all his friends, and tell them that he was okay, that he was safe and well and then, just get on with his life.

Life here had stopped.

The woman with the graying skin tossed and turned about, in the process of waking up. Her hair was limp and dull, scattered across her face. She looked as if she'd been bleached, with any vibrant colour washed out of her.

He watched her with dull, bored eyes. He felt slightly nostalgic, because she was older now, he was older now, and she was passing away, and he'd barely known her. But did that matter now, at the end of all things? She was his mother, but she had given him up. Did it matter to him now that she was dying?

Yes, and no. It mattered because she was his mother, his last blood relative on the face of this earth. There was not another Uzumaki, unless you counted the names on tombstones and bones in the bone yards. And no, it didn't matter, because he didn't know her anyways. She hadn't played mother to him long, and he couldn't care about her like a son should have.

She opened her eyes, just slightly, and they were just as dull and dead as the rest of her, washed out like the winter sky. She looked at him, and it seemed to him that she was in pain, just to be conscious, just to look at him like that.

It must have been miserable to live like that.

She didn't smile when she saw him, but narrowed her eyes, as if trying to think of who this was. Did she know him? Did she know the face of her own son, now grown and so distant from the child he'd been when she'd let him go?

No, she had to think, long and hard, and it hurt, obviously, from the pained expression she wore on her face. It almost hurt, to think that his own mother wouldn't remember him, but he hadn't remembered her either, so he supposed they were square.   
"Naruto?" she said at last, placing a name to that face, her voice withered and frail, much like herself.

She sounded very tired, and very far away, as if she was no longer in this earthly realm. He looked at her, their eyes locking, vibrant blue meeting dead grey, and then he looked away, to the ground, the grey carpet, and mumbled, "Yeah."

She didn't move, because there was no rustling of the sheets, and she didn't say anything, because her voice, no matter how small and straining, he would have been able to sift from the silence that surrounded them now.

When he looked at her, she was smiling. She did nothing more, and it wasn't a large smile, but rather, a small, gentle lifting of her lips at the corners of her mouth. It was the most sincere smile he'd ever seen in his life and he bit back tears.

Did she still love him, even after what she'd done? Had she still loved him when she'd given him up, had she fought those emotions down to give him a better life?

He didn't know, and she wasn't going to tell him. He could tell that right now. Her eyes, her face said she was too tired to explain, and that she hadn't wanted to see him to justify herself in her eyes, to get his forgiveness.

She simply wanted to see him.

"I'm glad to see you," she whispered, in her feeble voice. "You look well."

He shuffled, jamming his hands into his pockets, and unsure of anything else to say, mumbled, "Yeah," and looked steadfastly at the floor.

It was safer than looking at her eyes, which held so much to say that would never be spoken between them, because she was too tired to tell and he was too displaced to listen.

So, silence was the way of things between them, which was strange, because Naruto was never one to be prone to silence. Silence bothered him, reminded him of the days, of the nights in the orphanage, when everyone else had gone to sleep, or gone away. Every time someone was adopted, the rest of the children were deathly silent for the rest of the day, curling in on themselves and thinking, 'Why couldn't that have been me? What did I do wrong?'

All that had been heard on those days was their breathing.

In and out, in and out.

Hers fell now in soft, irregular patterns, and he wondered what illness she had that caused her to breath that way. His own steady breath felt so strange, sounded odd in contrast to hers, though hers was the strange one.  
It was a strange sort of nostalgia that filled the room right then. It was a moment, where he took the chance to look back on his life, and it was one of those moments where he wished everything could go back to the way it had been when he was small, sometimes, to a time period before he ever existed.

It was the same feeling that he got when summer changed to fall, a sort of, 'I wish it would last forever' sentiment, or the way he remembered his favourite sweater in the winter, on a hot summer day, when he wouldn't need it, but wanted it anyways, for the certain comfort it provided.

He didn't want this to last forever though. He didn't want to stand in that grey room, with that grey woman for the rest of eternity. He didn't want to stand there and watch her wither away, before his very eyes. Maybe this was more of a, 'Don't leave me,' kind of feeling. Maybe it was similar to how he felt when Iruka went away and left him at home, by himself, in the house alone, for a long time. Maybe it was like how he'd felt when all the children in the orphanage had slowly gone away and left him all alone.

Maybe this was what it felt like to be abandoned.

She was leaving him again, and somehow, it shouldn't have been this calm, and this forgiving. He should have wanted to hold her hand until her last breath, and hug her and say all the little things he had ever yearned to say to this woman, his mother.

But now, that part of him recoiled and died away, its ashes falling into the dusky recesses in the pit of his soul. She was dying, and nothing he could say would change that. It was better for him to keep detached, the way he had been until now. It was better for him to stay away, especially if he was only going to lose her again.

This was logic, cold, hard logic. Sentimentality meant nothing to him. He'd often heard of people being with the ones they loved until they drew their last breath, crying and saying things like, "I love you", or "I'm going to miss you". Where was the logic in it? It did not stop the person from dying, and it did nothing to heal the wound in the other person's heart. Sentimentality was stupid.

She was smiling at him still. If there was one thing he would remember, it would be this moment, this smile. She was smiling still.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Orochimaru was not at all surprised to see the students, both seniors and juniors gathered at the back of the building, all huddled tightly together, as if it made it less obvious as to what they were doing. Students had always done this, and they would continue to do so, as long as they considered it to be rebellious.  
What did surprise him, however, was the sight of a black-haired boy with them. His back was to Orochimaru, but the serpentine boy knew by instinct who it was. Or thought he did. At first glance, the boy looked like Itachi, startling close, but then, with the classic double-take, one discerned that it was Sasuke. 

Orochimaru wouldn't have been half as surprised if it had been Itachi, because he at least knew that the elder Uchiha had been dabbling in drugs before now. But Sasuke was something completely unexpected.

All right, maybe not entirely unexpected. Obviously, the boy was not mentally stable (Orochimaru often questioned whether either of them were), and he had obviously not recovered from the loss of his parents.

Orochimaru practically grinned. He knew it sounded cruel, even to himself, but now that Sasuke was doing something like this, perhaps he could use it to his advantage. Itachi cared about his brother more than he led everyone to believe. Perhaps he wouldn't object to working with Orochimaru on trying to get Sasuke out of the habit, if he was even in the habit, so to speak.

And that would be the only pitfall the plan had. If Sasuke wasn't actually doing what he thought he was doing, and he told Itachi that he was, anything he had Itachi had left would crumble to pieces. Well, more pieces than there already were.

This was not him being desperate. It might have appeared so, because Itachi was seemingly convinced they were through and he was subtly, yet persistently trying to get back together with the younger boy. He was acting simply out of the best interest for them both. If they got back together, they could put this entire mess behind them. If they broke apart completely, they could put this entire mess behind them. The truth behind the appearances was that they both had lingering insecurities about breaking up and lingering emotions on the subject.

He purposely slowed his pace, strolling now, leisurely away from the school, watching them out of the corner of his eye. He didn't want to make it too obvious that he was watching them, because they might either try and pick a fight, or scatter, thinking he was in association with the cops. . .or something.

They were eyeing him now, they had seen him. They were wary of him. He sped up a bit, now that he'd been spotted. They knew he was watching, and they knew he was there. There was no point in being discreet any longer.

He glanced back when they'd diverted their attention. Sasuke was on his hands and knees, throwing up. Orochimaru winced.

Well, at least that was confirmed. Itachi would at least have to talk to Sasuke about drugs now, for certain. Iitachi was the only parental figure that Sasuke had, and while he may not have cared too tremendously much that Sasuke was using substances like that, he might have cared a bit.  
He could only hope.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Ino glanced up from her workbook, to glare at Sakura. The pink-haired girl was sitting on her bed, her hair wrapped up in a towel, the bottle of nail polish beside her, the brush held in her hand. Sakura was supposed to be helping her, but instead, the girl was helping herself to all of Ino's beauty supplies.

"Mmhmm," the older girl mused, looking at the wet polish on her nails, as it flashed in the light. "Something's up."

Ino looked over the edge of her workbook at the other girl, her glare softened by the prospect of good gossip. They'd gone nearly a week without school, and thus, without good gossip. Besides, Ino had to keep her title as Gossip Queen intact for this semester. The sooner she started, the better. 

"What's up?" the blonde asked, slowly putting down her notes.

Sakura continued to look at her nails, as if they held all the secrets of life, before she finally looked at Ino, and said, "Yes, something's up. I'm just not sure what."

Ino's glare was back in full force. "What are you blathering about?" 

Sometimes, she swore up and down that Sakura should have been the blonde one.

Sakura smiled. "Now, Ino! I know what I'm talking about! There's something going on, and it involves one Uchiha Sasuke!"

Ino perked up almost instantly. Any gossip involving Sasuke would guarantee her position as gossip queen. Although most of the students, and teachers for that matter, knew what was going on with the youngest Uchiha, some of the girls still swooned over him, and he was still amazingly popular.

Sakura smiled devilishly, revealing that she had something utterly juicy to tell. Ino grinned back, just waiting for her pink-haired love to tell her what was so intriguing about Uchiha now.

Sakura was still smiling eerily. She waggled a finger in Ino's face. "Ah, if I tell you, will you give me a reward, Ino-dear?"

The blonde girl looked slightly startled at Sakura's demand, or even, if she dared, insinuation. At last, she nodded affirmatively and waited for Sakura to spill the beans.

"He was sitting in the music room today."  
Ino looked at her skeptically. From that first line, she was guessing that this wasn't the best gossip in the world.

"He was utterly miserable," Sakura crowed, sounding nearly triumphant.

Ino was nearly shocked. A few weeks ago, Sakura would have been mourning because Sasuke was upset. Hell, Sakura would have been inconsolable over Sasuke's problem. It was just the way she was.

"I think it has something to do with Naruto being gone."

Ino looked quizzically at her. "Naruto's gone?" she asked quietly, not entirely sure what the older girl meant.

Sakura nodded vigorously. "Gone," she repeated, as if the word clarified everything. "He wasn't at school today."

Well, Ino thought wryly, that did not clear up her confusion one bit. Could Uzumaki be dead? Or had he left the city, or something along that line? She had no clue, and apparently, Sakura didn't have a clue either.

"Go on," she murmured, seemingly thoroughly bored with the story.

"Sasuke's single," Sakura concluded, and Ino perked up considerably. 

Sasuke? Single, again? Oh, this was excellent gossip now. There was some scandal involving Naruto and now, Sasuke was single! Whoever should console the poor boy? She could imagine that now, the swarms of Sasuke's ever-hopeful fans trying to help the boy cope with the loss he'd just suffered.

Sakura sprawled out across her bed. "Now, Ino. What about that reward?"

- - - - - - - - - -

Uchiha Sasuke stumbled home, the now dark world blurring in and out of focus. He felt sick, even more so now that the high was receding. The street lights seemed like stars, throwing an orange glow over the nighttime streets.

How long had he been out? Gods, how long had he been out of it? He'd thought maybe it might be. . .

What had he thought it would be? Nice, yeah, that was it. Nice, compared to the torment of his mental state, the anguish of his emotional self. Not so. Not so at all. His emotions, his thoughts were all fucked up, and so the drugs made him more so.   
Had he been hallucinating? Duh, of course. But that came down to the real question behind that question: Where did the hallucination end and reality begin?

Blood, there had been lots and lots of blood. And the snow whirling about like fireflies, and then, they were screaming little sprites, tearing at his hair, his clothes and he couldn't get them of. They tore and spat and kicked at him, and their voices - squealing!

He'd been sick, he'd thought. He couldn't remember if he had been now, but he knew that right now, there was that distinct possibility. His eyes throbbed in their sockets. He swore he could feel his temples pulsing.

Why the hell was it so cold out here! Where the hell were his gloves, his coat? All he had was his t-shirt - stupid! He could have at least worn long sleeves - and his pants, the shoes on his feet keeping the cold from snaking up into his body.

He remembered now, through the haze of after, that he'd realized something, had some radical revelation while he was high, while he'd been gone. But now, he'd forgotten it. Blood, and everything had been very, very confusing, made even more confused by his muddled mental state.

So, he did what he could do, stumbling home through the snow.

He did his best to forget the bad, find the good, and brace himself for next time.

He would drown out these feelings yet.

- - - - - - - - - -

Naruto stood outside the door, listening to the soft voices inside. They were not half as upset, nor as frantic as he had thought they should be, but maybe he had watched one too many cheesy family drama movies.

He stood there, for a long, long time, contemplating on what it meant to have your mother die a second death.

The first death of his mother had occurred when she had abandoned him. She had left him to fend for himself, and without guidance in this world, and in doing so, had killed herself. She was no longer an active force in his life. She was nothing but a memory, and memories were dead creatures.

Now, she had died, truly and physically, and this was, in his eyes, her second death. She had died once already, and he had already grieved and moved on. He had moved on without her in his life, as someone does when they lose someone, and become a stronger person.

So, what did he do with a second death? He could not grieve anymore, because she had been dead to him thirteen years ago.

At long last, the door to that room opened and Gaara walked out. He seemed no more displaced than usual, though just before he shut the door, Naruto noted the room smelled of death, and the curtains had been drawn, giving the room the appearance to match that scent.

Gaara glanced at him sideways, a glance that would often be used to belittle people, Naruto supposed. The green-eyed boy, his half-brother, looked at him, his mouth set in a grim, straight line.

"We'll take you home now," Gaara said, and Naruto looked up at him.

There was no grief, no despair in Gaara's voice, only calm composure. That scared Naruto a little. Though, he supposed that he was much in the same boat as Gaara, as far as grieving was concerned.

He nodded slightly.

Going home. What exactly did that mean? He would go back to Iruka, he would go back to school, he would go back to his house, his friends, his teachers, his routine and -

His Sasuke.

But what had changed while he was gone? He had changed, he knew, even if slightly. Even if this change was only temporary, he knew it had occurred. And if he had changed, who else had changed?

Had Sasuke changed?

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Itachi glanced up from his homework, glaring at the intruder. Who would dare invade his sanctuary?

His glare increased tenfold as he noted who the intruder was. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Orochimaru, and he doubted he ever would be again.

Too bad for him, apparently, because the older boy had just invaded his room, and shut and locked the door behind him. Itachi grit his teeth. It was obvious that Orochimaru wanted to talk, and at this point, conversing was practically useless.

"What?" he barked, ignoring any formalities he should have regarded. 

Orochimaru said nothing, but walked over to the bed, the sound of his footsteps ringing through the room. Itachi watched him, like a hawk, eyes narrowed and focussed solely on him.  
After a terse moment or two, the Uchiha put down his pen, signifying he would listen to what the other had to say. Orochimaru watched the action with subdued humour. Anyone else wouldn't have been able to read the boy this way. Hell, he hadn't been able to at first, but Itachi. . .

Itachi was written in hieroglyphics, and it had been a fun puzzle to try and figure out what each symbol meant. 

"I've got some news regarding Sasuke. As his guardian, I figured you should know."

Itachi said nothing, but the look on his face said he didn't care what Orochimaru thought, but he obviously cared what Sasuke was doing now.

Oh, he was doing something all right. As always, Orochimaru decided to play up the drama of the moment, as best he could. He padded slowly across the room, sidling up to the younger boy, then cupped his cheek with his hand.

"Drugs," he practically purred, only to be slapped away by an irritated weasel.

"This is about Sasuke, not about you and I," Itachi informed him, as if the clarity of the situation hadn't existed.

Just as Itachi needed to be read, Orochimaru did need the same treatment sometimes, and Itachi could read into the older boy's motives all too easily. It was little wonder they called him a genius.

Ever cryptic, Itachi's previous statement seemed to have no merit as he pulled Orochimaru's face closer to his own, his eyes boring into the older boy's. "Now, what do you know?" he said, his voice a notch above whispering, his tone taking on the quality of someone who was out of breath. 

Orochimaru smirked.

- - - - - - - -


	26. Simple Complications

(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Remember, if you're reading, please review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 26: Simple Complications

The door creaked open and he stepped into the foyer, an unfinished room in the house, with the door to the kitchen, the dirty cement floor, and the shoes all lined up in a row. It was certainly different from the chaos he'd lived in for the last little while.

Slowly, he took off his shoes, placing them beside the others there. They looked so out of place there, so grubby and worn against the polished new of the others. Was that their proper place?

His bare feet smacked against the cement, the coldness of it seeping up into his legs. The house wasn't happy to see him back again.

The door to the kitchen didn't squeal on its hinges but opened silently, allowing him to enter his home. Was it really his home? 

He wasn't so sure anymore. At one time, he couldn't have pictured any where else being his, belonging to him. He couldn't have called anywhere home, because that place had been cold and unforgiving.

The warmth of the rest of the house flowed out to greet him, washing over him, curling about him as he paused with his hand on the door knob. Then, he pushed his way into the room, finding it empty, and vacant.

The house was echoing his inner turmoil, which was slightly disturbing, even with the pensive mood he was in. He felt just as empty inside, as if he'd had everything ripped away from him. He wasn't sure where he belonged anymore. 

He wandered out of the kitchen, finding the dining room deserted too. He paused by the piano, looking at it reflectively, watching his melancholic visage be reflected in that polished surface. He seemed too old, too serious suddenly, to be the little boy who used to live here.

Tentatively, he reached out and placed his hand on the wood, running it along the edge of the instrument with practised ease. Hesitantly, he sat down on the bench, gently touching the ivory keys, as if remembering what he'd forgotten.

Did he remember how to play that song?

He abandoned the piano after a moment or two, walking across the room, to stare out the windows into the snowy backyard. The old oak tree, with its branches snow-covered and clawing at the gray sky vaulting high above, stood bent under the weight of the years. It seemed tired, as if it was about to give up the ghost. Was he as tired as that?

He turned away from the windows and padded up stairs, his feet barely sounding on the carpet. He stopped by the closed door to his room, deciding that someone had closed it in his absence, having not wanted to be reminded that there was someone else who had lived here.

Did he live there still?

No, he decided, he really didn't live anywhere anymore, because he felt so dead inside. He had given up trying to sort himself out, and instead, left himself with a million swirling questions that he refused to answer, because he was torn up by them.

He looked at the room, like it was a time capsule from some long forgotten era, with everything perfectly intact. Nothing had been touched, nothing had been moved. Clothes and school work met in the middle of the melee, mingling together. Books and pens and other things, like a half-eaten bit of bagel, or a knocked over plant littered the desk, and the drawers hadn't closed properly.

The ghost of a smile graced his lips. Those drawers never would shut properly, would they?

The bed was still tangled from when he'd slept in it last. But had that really been him sleeping there?

He felt like a completely different person then. He was almost surprised by that, because he hadn't expected that going away for a week would change him that dramatically. The death of that woman had left him with so many questions, and he just couldn't find the answers in himself, but there was no one there he could turn to for guidance.

He turned away again and shut the door, feeling like a stranger, an intruder in this place he should have been calling home, saying was safe.

There were voices downstairs. They were voices he should have recognized, but he didn't right now, because he was too lost in the moment, staring at the floor, letting his eyes brim with tears. He didn't know why, but he felt like crying.

The voices were louder now, coming for him, coming to get him.

Had they forgotten him too?

He turned to face the voices as the owners came into view, and the sound stopped abruptly, when those eyes saw him, disbelieving and unsure.

"Naruto?" the elder one asked, his voice and tone disbelieving, as if he expected him to vanish into thin air at any second, like an illusion.  
He gave a curt nod, then returned to staring at the floor, even as Iruka laid a hand upon his shoulder and started to speak to him.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sasuke couldn't stand sitting next to Naruto, not then at that moment in time, nor in that place. The wind was bitter, made worse by the fact they were sitting on top of a hill, with nothing to protect them from the force of it. 

What was worse was that Naruto wasn't talking to him. The blond had called him up there to talk with him, about what, he didn't know. And now, they weren't talking at all. He didn't think they'd said anything at all.

If the blond had wanted to talk to him, he should have been talking, not sitting there, staring down the embankment at the frozen river snaking its way through the valley. Naruto's depressive silence wasn't helping him anymore than it was helping Naruto.

It was so very quiet here, and that chilled him to the bone. Naruto was never quiet. Naruto was loud and abrasive, and he was cheerful. It hurt to see him like this, more than Sasuke would admit. What had happened to the boy he loved?

Did he love him?

He didn't really know, he mused. He didn't want to be there right then, he didn't want to be with him then, but if he didn't want to be with him, why had he thrown such a fit when he'd gone away? He shook his head. It was too confusing. 

Naruto looked as pale as the snow. His face was a translucent mirror, but he couldn't see anything but his reflection in the blue depths of the other's eyes. It disturbed him, and he wished he was anywhere but there. He wasn't good at dealing with pain, because he'd never learned to deal with it in what would be deemed a proper way. How could he help someone if he couldn't help himself?

He started to stand up, frozen from having sat too long in the cold, when Naruto's voice cut through the air, colder than the winter that surrounded them. "Sasuke. . ."

The older boy stopped and looked at him, waiting for the blond to finish speaking. Naruto threw his gaze up to the sky, watching as the first of the snowflakes started to fall from the heavens. "I'm leaving."

Sasuke stared at him for a moment, then, finding his voice again, managed to ask, "What?" though his whisper was whisked away on the wind. 

Naruto didn't look at him, but nodded, looking back to the river. "I'm leaving. I just can't stand being here anymore. I don't belong."

"What do you mean?"

Surprisingly, Sasuke sounded more confused than cynical.

Naruto still refused to look at him. "I've got to get away from here. I can't decide between two choices, so I'll make myself a third choice." 

It was strange to hear logic fall from Naruto's lips, but there it was, a bold statement of what was to be done in a certain situation. Sasuke felt his heart skip erratically and his stomach churned with illness brought on by nervousness. It was suddenly all too clear what Naruto meant.

The blond stood up, jamming his hands in his coat pockets. He seemed very far away, his eyes steadily focussed on the horizon. "It's the only thing to do."

"So. . .that's it?" Sasuke asked, feeling a little put out.

He'd just got Naruto back, only to have him slip through his fingers again? Something wasn't fair. He'd thought they'd at least go out with some sort of monumental fight or something like that. This was. . .

This was just heartbreaking.

It was like hearing someone was dead. For a little while, you just felt dead inside, numb, unable to comprehend it. Then slowly, you came to realize that they were gone, and you started to correct yourself - 'was', instead of 'is', 'had' instead of 'has' and all that sort of thing, and then one morning, you woke up and you were shaken to the core that. This. Person. Was. Dead. It was a cold hard fact, like swallowing nails, or a slap in the face as you sat there and realized that this wouldn't happen ever again, and they wouldn't talk to you, touch you, listen to you, look at you, and that they were buried under six feet of earth.

At least, that was how he'd felt when his parents died. He'd been so numb and disbelieving at first, and then, started to use past tense when referring to them, and then, it had all come crashing down on him and he'd woken up one morning so sick with grief that he'd wanted to die.

Too bad he'd been sloppy at committing suicide. 

This, this was like being told someone was dead. You knew it had happened, but you refused to believe it, and one day, it would hit you like a ton of bricks.

It almost hurt to breath, though he wasn't sure if it was from the cold air or the panic rushing through him. He was shaking, though he might have been colder on the inside than on the outside.  
"Naruto," he said shakily, trying to hold it together. He wouldn't break down in front of Naruto, not now.

He watched his breath rise into the air. The sun was setting quickly. The world was getting dark.

In the twilight haze, Naruto turned to look at him, and he seemed almost like a shadow, like the memory of someone you knew you had known, but couldn't remember anymore. Would Naruto fade like that?

"Naruto." 

He tried to say something other than that, but his mind had shut down, making itself blank, so it didn't have to think, didn't have to process what was happening. It was trying to make him numb. 

Naruto waited for him to say something for a few more seconds, before muttering something and walking past him, the snow crunching under his feet. "Bye," he said, and he said it so casually that it seemed like he hadn't said those things, and that they'd go on just like always, tomorrow and the next day and forever.

Forever was shattered into a long series of bleak, dull days with no sunshine as everyone marched on, marching toward their graves.

Sasuke sat in the snow, cold, miserable and frozen, for what seemed like forever, while darkness crashed down over the world and the temperature plummeted.

Fumbling in the dark, he finally moved, clutching at something in his coat pocket, pulling it out, and he knocked it back, flopping back into the snow and finding some much needed relief.

He needed to be numb. 

- - - - - - - - - -

Itachi was watching. He'd been watching for a little while now, as soon as it started to get dark. He'd watched more intently when the snow started to fall, but the snowfall did not bring Sasuke to the house.

It was now well after seven o'clock and dinner had gone cold, untouched by worried people too afraid to eat.

The streetlights glowed softly through the snow, creating an orange like glow on the street below. Everything seemed so quiet. Underneath the seeming peacefulness, lay quiet unrest.

Itachi turned away from the window, his palms cold from pressed against the glass. He wouldn't admit it, but he was worried about Sasuke.

He wandered through the darkness of his room, finding, somehow, the crumpled sheets of his bed. He flopped down on the soft mess, curling up as his thoughts curled inward. Vacantly, he watched the snow falling outside.

He remembered when they'd first started to go wrong, when the relations between brothers had soured.

Sasuke had been eight at the time, and he'd been thirteen, just on the verge of becoming a confused adolescent.

They'd seen their parents for the last time on a night like this. They'd been headed out for some reason or another - a detail he'd blocked, or forgotten - and he remembered how he couldn't help but think that they might die, because the roads were slippery, and the snow was oh-so-thick. He remembered standing in front of the door, his fingers freezing, as Sasuke repeatedly hugged either parent, tears forming in his eyes, begging them to let him go.

He'd been acting as if he knew it would be the last time he'd ever seen them. And the little boy had stood there and waved to his parents as they drove off, and Itachi just watched him, one hand on the door, ready to disappear back inside.

It had been less than twenty-four hours when they got that phone call. He recalled now, that when he broke the news to Sasuke, the little boy had just woken up from his sleep, and it had taken him a few minutes to get Sasuke to understand what he was saying.

Then, the little brat, headstrong and stubborn as always, had screamed at him, and started to cry, and he'd run down the stairs and out the door, and stood there, in his pyjamas, in the snow, staring at the road, as if expecting to see their parents' car come back up the road at any moment.

Itachi, feeling weighed down enough by his own feelings, wandered inside, shutting and locking the door, leaving Sasuke to stay outside, since he wanted to wait for something that would never happen.

Sasuke had been sick at the service, because he'd caught a terrible cold from that night, and he looked almost like a corpse himself - so pale and small, so dead because he wouldn't smile, and because his eyes were filled with nothing - the void created by a loss. His eyes had been red and puffy, and he'd kept rubbing them, as if they'd irritated him, and Itachi thought they must have because he'd cried so much, the little idiot.

Itachi sighed and turned over, trying to keep himself warm. It had been seven years since then, and he had to admit, neither of them had recovered from it. He was cold and distant, and Sasuke had become the same way.  
The door opened, just a little bit, and someone slid into the room, like a shadow, and then the door clicked shut behind them.

Orochimaru sat down beside him, offering him a cup of something hot. He took it mindlessly, not bothering to note what it tasted like when he sipped it. Neither one of them said anything, just watching the snow fall outside the window.

Itachi sighed at last, and put down his drink. "I'm going to look for him."

Orochimaru rolled his eyes. "He's probably just at Naruto's."

"He would have called," the younger boy asserted, finding his coat from some pile of clothes on the ground. He put the jacket on, fastening it and walking out of the room.

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

Kakashi and Iruka sat in the kitchen, silence reigning between them. Iruka kept glancing toward the staircase, indicating that he was worried about Naruto.

Konohamaru was playing quietly, for once, in the living room.

Iruka sighed for what must have been the millionth time that evening. He'd been sighing ever since Naruto had come home and locked himself in his room, without so much as a word, or a gesture in greeting. It was simply un-Naruto like.

Of course, Naruto had been acting strangely since he came back, and Iruka couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the boy while he'd been missing. It had changed him, for the worse, obviously, but Iruka hadn't quite extracted the details yet, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.

Kakashi was watching him, intently. He could feel those sharp eyes locked on him, monitoring him, reading his internal thoughts and actions. It was one of those things he admired and hated about Kakashi at the same time. The fact that he could be so in tune with someone as to read them like an open book was astounding. Iruka hated it because it always laid him bare in front of the older man, even if he wanted to be locked up tight.

He shifted uncomfortably at the feeling and looked back at his mug of tea, swirling it slightly so that the dregs were disrupted and floated around, as if in a whirlwind. It had gone cold by now, most likely, and he wasn't going to drink the rest of it anyways.

Kakashi shifted so that he was leaning his head against his hand. "If you're that worried about him, talk to him."

Iruka shook his head, closing his eyes. "I've tried that already. He avoids questions, and he only answers yes or no, and sometimes, not at all."  
Kakashi looked at him, this grave 'I-know-better-than-you' look. "Maybe you're not asking the right questions."

Iruka looked at the silver-haired man, who had already hid his face behind the rim of his mug. He sighed and shook his head, smiling slightly.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Falling snow was all there was, floating down out of the dark sky, making him blink irregularly, as it hit him in the eyes. It was strewn through his locks, across his clothes, and he was frozen from head to toe, and he probably had frostbite, but at this point he didn't care.

And all at once, there was something clouding his vision, a dark angel of sorts. Dark eyes looked down at him, dark locks nearly brushed his skin as the angel leaned in close to him. It was still too dark to make out their features though. Snow was strewn threw the angel's locks too.

"Sasuke. . .what the hell are you doing?"

That was his brother. Startled, he sat up, brushing the snow off him hastily. "Nothing!" he cried defensively.

He shivered. Moving made him realize how cold he really was. His head throbbed with the sudden movement, and he winced, placing a freezing hand to his freezing face.

Itachi was looking at him rather cynically. "Of course you were doing nothing, lying out in the snow at eight o'clock," he muttered sarcastically, turning about.

Sasuke said nothing but watched his brother turn and go, finally disappearing back into the snow. At long last, he got to his feet, his cold joints aching with every movement. He teetered, stiffly across the field, back toward the road, and back toward his home.

Shivering and rubbing his arms, he stopped suddenly, and sneezed.

Hurriedly, he quickened his pace to get home as fast as he could, before he got any colder, or any sicker.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Naruto had decided that the best way to go was not to tell anyone and simply leave. He came to that conclusion, reasoning that if he told anyone, they would either try to stop him, come with him, or offer him teary goodbyes, which was not something he wanted to deal with. 

Unfortunately for himself, he was a bit of a sentimental fool, and he felt a little bad for giving Sasuke the cold shoulder last night, and being very curt and ass-like, and now, he'd managed to delay his departure for a few days at least.

The sappy, sentimental part of him wanted to give Sasuke a proper 'lover's parting' type goodbye, and so, intending to leave, with all his stuff slung over his shoulder, he'd showed up at the Uchiha residence, and found out that Sasuke was sick in bed.

Now, his conscience was making him sit next to the bed-ridden boy, and blaming Sasuke's rather bad cold on himself. If there was one thing he was good at, it was blaming himself when the people close to him got hurt.

So now, he was stuck playing nursemaid to Sasuke because he felt guilty and then, he'd most likely come down with the cold. Either way, it looked as if he wasn't going anywhere for a couple of days at least.

He was stirred from his thoughts by Sasuke coughing and turning over, looking at him through bleary eyes. The ebony-haired boy sniffed loudly, and hacked, "I thought you were leaving?"

Naruto shook his head, biting his lip, then reached out to smooth Sasuke's rumpled hair. "I can't leave you like this," he murmured, not caring how sappy it sounded. 

Sasuke smiled, sort of, because Naruto had to imagine it was pretty hard to smile being as sick as he was, then snuggled down into the blankets, closing his eyes. Naruto watched his soon to be ex for a moment or two, then said, softly, "Would you like to hear a story?"

Sasuke shook his head, then lay still for a moment or two, before he started to cough again. "Tissue," he murmured meekly, sitting up slightly and reaching out.

Naruto held the box out to him. Sasuke took a bunch of tissues and laid back down, drowning his face with the tissues. Naruto grimaced and looked at the floor.

Why did he have to feel so guilty over everything? It wasn't his fault that Sasuke was an idiot who sat out in the cold too long. It wasn't his fault the other boy was sick. It wasn't his fault his mother had cast him out and it wasn't his fault his mother was dead.

So why did he feel like it was all his fault?

Maybe, just maybe, this was some deep-seated desire to protect those he was close to, and when he failed to keep them safe from harm, he felt that it was his fault. Maybe he wanted to protect them because he was scared of losing them.

It made sense. It made too much sense.

He dropped the tissue box, rather suddenly, having come to such a startling revelation about himself. Sasuke glanced at him, and he sat there, staring wide-eyed at the floor, shaking slightly.  
"Sasuke," he croaked, refusing to look up, still too shocked by his discovery.

The dark-haired boy looked at him curiously, or as best as he could, without over-exerting himself. He ended up looking a cross between curious and dead.

"I. . .I wanna protect you," Naruto stumbled, unsure of his words, and fumbling for them.

Sasuke looked at him, more curious now, head tilted to the side. "What?" he croaked, his voice hoarse and cracking from the rawness of his throat.

Naruto kept looking at the floor, trying to rein in his racing thoughts, so that he could process them and communicate them to his confused lover. "I want to protect you. I want to keep you safe; I don't want anything to hurt you. I. . .I. . ."

He stopped there, not sure what to say beyond that. He knew his next words were on the tip of his tongue, but he wasn't sure that Sasuke was ready to hear them or that he was ready to say them.

Somebody higher than him didn't care and he was compelled to say them anyways, ready or not.

"I love you."

- - - - - - - - - - -

Sakura and Ino stopped their noisy chattering, pausing as the sound of piano music filled the hallway. They glanced at each other, startled, then back toward the music room doors. The question was on both of their lips, but neither asked.

Cautiously, as if afraid of what they might find, they peered about the frame of the open door, looking into the music room, and their hopes, however foolish they were, were crushed, as they rightfully should have been. 

It was not the person they had hoped it was playing the piano. It was Kakashi, the guys' gym teacher and both girls sighed, looking at each other and shaking their heads in disappointment. They hadn't heard a word about Naruto all week, and they'd been hoping that maybe, after the weekend, news would arrive, if only for the sake of Sasuke.

Kakashi had stopped playing, and he was talking to someone now. For a second, the two girls thought they'd been caught, and almost reacted, when they heard footsteps, and then, blond hair came into view.

Naruto, like the sprite he was, was back out of the picture almost instantly, the door blocking their view of him, until he practically shoved Kakashi aside and sat down on the piano. "Not bad for an old pervert," he was saying, and the two girls nearly giggled in glee.  
Naruto was back! Oh, just wait until they told Sasuke! That was, if Sasuke didn't already know, which he probably did, considering Naruto was. . .with him. 

They grinned at each other, for once, happy to see the annoying blond git, and pressed fingers to each others smiling lips in an effort to keep quiet. They both winced as the sound of fingers being cracked echoed.

They nodded at each other, smiling, saying, almost in unison, "I knew he was an excellent pianist." 

Their eyes snapped open and they glared at each other, pointing accusing fingers and saying, "You did not! You thought he would be horrible!"

With that, they descended into petty squabbling over whom had thought what about Naruto's playing ability when they'd first found him in the band. At last, Sakura, ever the more mature of the two girls, tossed her hair over her shoulder and said, rather huffily, "Whatever, Ino. What matters is that he can play."

What else mattered was that he was back, because back was good. Everything was right again in the world, even though this event had actually affected them little.

Sakura happened to glance at the clock then, and deemed that it was an acceptable time to show up to band class. Brushing by Ino, she dashed into the classroom, shouting at the top of her lungs, "Naruto!" 

The blond boy hit a sour note and turned back to look at her, seemingly surprised by her sudden happiness at seeing him. "Good morning, Sakura," he said, his voice still shocked and surprised. 

She practically threw herself about his neck. "Naruto! I'm so glad to see you!" she chirped.

Ino, not one to be left out, also wrapped herself about the younger boy, cooing about how pleased she was that he was back. Naruto could only stare ahead stupidly, blinking from time to time. What the hell was going on here?

Kakashi just looked amused.

At one point, Naruto would have been giddily happy to have just one, let alone two, females fawn over him like this, but not right now. He still had a lot on his mind, and he wanted to think about it, though this, and being at school wasn't helping much.

At last, after what seemed like an eternity, the girls finished with hug-throttling him and let go of him, allowing him some freedom in movement again. They slid over to their seats and sat down, chattering, until one of them (he was unsure which one now) said, "So, where's Sasuke?" 

He'd thought he'd died in that instant. He had run out on Sasuke a little after he made the embarrassing mistake of telling him he loved him, and he hadn't spoken to him, or seen him since. He felt a little guilty for doing that - okay, a lot guilty, but he didn't want to face Sasuke after he'd said that.

He was also still meditating on whether or not he should leave. He still felt out of sorts, and out of place. He still felt that leaving, and starting anew would be the best thing for him. But, he felt differently now, because he'd realized that he wanted to protect everyone around him. He knew he was going to be hurting them by leaving, but in the end. . .

Was he protecting them from some greater hurt by leaving?

Maybe. Maybe by leaving, he was protecting them, because he was just going to be a burden in the end. Maybe some greater hurt was coming to him, and then, by staying, they'd all suffer with him.

But he didn't want to leave, not at least until he'd heard Sasuke openly reject him. There was always the chance that the older boy wouldn't crush him for saying that to him, or something silly along those lines, but he just couldn't leave until it was severed.

This was so very confusing. He was frustrated with it all. He was tired of all the questions, tired of all the soul-searching, tired of everything and he just wanted to go to sleep, and maybe when he woke up, he'd have some goddamn answers!

He banged his fists on the piano, only to look up and glance at the changes that had occurred while he was lost in deep thought.

The clock read five to eight, the start time of practice. Most of the band had filtered in, and set-up, with the exception of Sasuke, which was really no surprise considering how sick the boy was. Iruka was moving his music stand to the front of the class and yelling at Orochimaru to get out of the string section, and back into the brass section, and no, he did not care that said Orochimaru had been talking to Itachi! Or so he said. Kakashi was gone and Ino and Sakura had long since abandoned trying to get an answer out of him about Sasuke.

Naruto sighed and shuffled, digging into his backpack and fishing out his music, which he propped up on the piano. He cracked his fingers, and he could feel Iruka's glare on the back of his head. He knew the teacher hated it when he did that - said it would give him arthritis.

At this point, Naruto didn't care. He had more important things to worry about. Like whether or not Sasuke would call him stupid, and leave him, or something like that.

How he hated being insecure. After years of ridicule, and mockery, however, it was just something that came naturally.

The band was starting to make some sour squeaking noises now, starting to warm up and get ready to play. Iruka was placing names to faces. He needed everyone to attend every single practice from this week on until the competition, in about eight weeks, and then, a school concert the week after that.

Naruto sighed, playing the opening bars of the song, which was his solo, and listened to the world quiet down around him. He didn't really care, though, because he was thinking again. His fingers moved of their own accord, and the music written on the sheet didn't really make much sense.

He and Sasuke. . .

They'd been through quite a lot of shit, but he wasn't sure what it had done to them, as people, and as a couple. It seemed to have ripped them apart, and brought them closer at the same time. He couldn't say which way they'd been pulled more, though.

The rest of the band cut in, flaring up loudly, especially the damn brass section. He'd always hated the brass section, ever since about grade seven, because all the brass players were immature and tended to use playing the instrument as an excuse to make rude noises and excessively loud noises.

He glanced back over his shoulder and noted Orochimaru in the brass section (where he was supposed to be, according to Iruka). He supposed things hadn't changed much, and the brass players were still immature, as always. He sighed, turning his sights back to the music.

Oh, hurrah, speaking of brass, it was time for their solo. He was sorely tempted to just keep playing through it, although he knew Iruka would stop them and ask what the hell he was doing. He couldn't say he was being spiteful, however, and he wasn't in the mood to come up with a brilliant excuse.

The door, which had been closed up till this point, because some of the teachers in nearby classrooms had complained that the band made too much noise while they were preparing lessons, creaked open, the sound lost under the blare of the brass.

Somebody coughed, however, rather loudly, and the band member's heads turned to see who it was, a couple of the trumpets giving a sick last warble as their players' let the note die off.

Naruto took one look at the new-comer and tried his very best to bury himself in the corner of the room, or at least, become one with the piano. It apparently didn't work very well, because even though he was 'hiding', he could still feel that gaze on him.

Most of the band, however, couldn't decipher what was going on. Sasuke was there, though late, which was something he was never, and he looked about as healthy as a corpse. He was shaking like a leaf in a gale, and he looked as if he'd just rolled out of bed, his hair sticking up in odd places. What made the image really complete, however, was that he hadn't even bothered to change into jeans, or something proper like that, but rather, was still in his pyjama pants, which, thankfully, had no print on them.  
Iruka stared at the formerly missing flute-player, then decided it would have been better had he not shown up at all, rather than in this condition. "Sasuke," he started, but the boy coughed, rather violently, cutting him off.

He threw an apologetic look at Iruka, croaked, "Sorry," then hurried down the steps, as fast as he could without misjudging his steps, because everything was kind of spinning. He hated fevers.

In the midst of the band, Itachi was shaking his head in dismay and anger. He'd told Sasuke to stay at home, in bed, and he'd thought his little brother had more sense than to pull something like this. He glanced at the clock, noting that there was still time to get him home before class actually started.

Naruto wished that the floor would open up and either swallow him, or Sasuke, because this was starting to look like a confrontation, or a conversation he wanted to avoid altogether, let alone trying to avoid it in front of the entire band.

The floor wasn't quite so co-operative, however, and when Sasuke sat down on the piano bench, he was still sitting there. Bracing himself for the worst, he looked at Sasuke, darkly, waiting to hear what the boy had come all that way to say. 

Sasuke almost looked like he was going to cry. Naruto bit his lip, keeping himself from trying to fulfill that urge to protect, by reaching out to comfort the other boy.

Sasuke's voice was shaky when he did speak, indicating he wasn't well, and that he really didn't want to say this. Naruto wished he could close his ears, like he could close his eyes.

"Naruto, I. . ."

- - - - - - - - - - -


	27. Catch My Fall

(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! If you're reading, please remember to review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters. If anybody remembers the chapter title for chapter 33, 34 or 37, could you please let me know? )

And the Beat Goes on  
Chapter 27: Catch My Fall

"Naruto, I. . ."

Sasuke could barely force the words out of his throat, which was raw from the damn coughing that had accompanied his cold. Speaking made him feel as if there was a bunch of thorns lodged in his vocal chords.

He drew a shaky breath, trying to force away the tears gathering in his eyes. The water was cool to his flushed cheeks, which were burning up with fever, but he didn't need to look so goddamn weak right then.

Naruto wasn't looking at him. The blond had closed his eyes, obviously scared of what he had to say. That was fine with him. He was scared of what he had to say too. He didn't know why it hurt so much, but it felt like there was something pricking at his heart. Maybe it was the fact he couldn't breathe properly, hadn't been able to breathe properly since he'd run through the icy cold to school. Now, it seemed, that the air was far too heavy, too thick to breath and his head spun with lack of oxygen.

He felt dizzy. He could hear people moving around in the background, saying stuff, but he couldn't make sense of it. His brother was probably pretty pissed off at him right now, but he didn't care. He simply had to say this. It had been on the tip of his tongue since Naruto had made his bold statement to him on Friday night.

Everything was blurry, even Naruto, who was right in front of him. Stupid tears, stupid cold, stupid fever!

There was no turning back now. He simply had to say it, and then, whatever followed would come crashing down on his head. Maybe he'd be lucky and pass out and miss the initial maelstrom of confusion and chaos.

That chaos and confusion was already brewing behind him, ready to break at any second, should he give the signal. Naruto had looked up at him now, confused as to why he was taking so damn long to say anything.

He drew a shaky breath and tried again. "Naruto, I. . ."  
He trailed off again. Goddamn his coward's nerve. Every time he got to those two words, he hit a blockade and couldn't say anything more. He was stumbling, tripping all over himself in order to get this out in the open.

Naruto's face screamed, "Just say it already!" 

He closed his eyes and bit his lip, trying hard to pull up the courage residing deep inside of himself that he needed to say this, to do this.

He tried so hard to draw up the courage that he needed to break Naruto's heart with.

"Naruto, I don't want to see you again."

The storm broke then, the room suddenly becoming clamoured, and frantically loud. But beyond that, there was Naruto, the hurt look in his eyes, the shattering that he knew would happen. He was sorry in that instant for doing it, but he knew, had known from the start that this was how it was going to end.

So, if this was how it was supposed to end, why was it hurting him so goddamn much? He was the one who wanted to end it, right?

He stood there, wheezing for a moment or two, because he still couldn't breathe properly. There were hands on his shoulders, trying to stay him, because, he didn't realize it, but he was swaying back and forth, like a leaf in the breeze, clinging to the branch of consciousness.

When he did tumble forward into the darkness of oblivion, the one who caught him, was Naruto.

Irony is a wicked thing.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Sakura left band practice, shaken, and startled. She hadn't even said goodbye to Ino, that's how shook up she was. She'd come to a startling realization, when Sasuke had given his dramatic performance in front of them.

Love didn't last forever. "Happily ever after" didn't happen anywhere, except for in her storybooks. She had always cherished that ending when she was a little girl, and had still even now that she was older, because she wanted to live like that - happily. Real life, however, wouldn't allow her that luxury. 

Would the same come to pass between herself and Ino? Did people fall out of love, just as they fell in love?

She didn't know, and it scared her, because she didn't want to go back from where she'd come. She had been alone, in a dark place, and she never wanted to go back. She was in the light now, with Ino, with someone at her side, to catch her when she stumbled, and she wanted to stay there, in the sunlight forever.

Presently, she came to musing about what had happened between Naruto and Sasuke to make Sasuke come to such a conclusion. He was usually so calm and level-headed that she couldn't see him doing something like that without some great deal of need, or thought. But, the fact remained, he had done it. He had broken up with Naruto.

She'd thought they'd been perfect for each other, though she hadn't immediately seen it. She'd been selfish then, thinking herself to be the only match for her Sasuke-kun, but in time, now that she had someone and didn't have to be jealous, she'd come to see that she was not cast in that mould.

Naruto had been. Naruto and Sasuke were almost complete opposite, even in appearance. Naruto was blond, with tan skin, and bright blue eyes, while Sasuke was dark featured, with pale skin. They were like day and night, like the moon and the sun, but that was only scratching the surface. When you got down to who they were, they had a lot of similarities, and enough in common that they could understand each other, without saying anything that might hurt themselves.

Had Sasuke done it in self-defence? He had lost his parents already, he had lost his family and maybe he was scared that he was going to lose Naruto, so he let him go first, so that he didn't get stuck with that blow of losing someone else. 

It made sense, in a strange, sick way. She didn't know what had transpired, and she shouldn't wonder like this, because it only made her worry.

She glanced to her left suddenly, noticing that Shikamaru was walking with her. That was odd. His first class was all the way on the other side of the school. Shikamaru, by nature, was lazy, so why would he go so out of his way to walk with her, of all people? As far as she knew, he didn't like her all that much, and merely tolerated her because she was Ino's friend. Sometimes, she wondered why he tolerated Ino as a 'friend', because the blonde treated him like crap. She decided that it was because he was too lazy to make new friends.

But back to the current problem. Why the hell was he here, so far out of his way? It confused her, and made her uneasy. She felt like he was a bad omen, or a messenger of bad news. She was about to ask him something, when he said, barely raising his voice, even above the clamour of the halls, "Ino wants to know why you told."

She stopped, confused, and he stopped too, turning to face her, arms behind his head. She stared at him, confusion scrawled all across her face. "Told what? What are you talking about?"

Shikamaru sighed. This was far too troublesome. He didn't even know why he bothered running favours for Ino, because he never got anything back out of them. In fact, when he looked at it, the whole friendship seemed entirely one-sided. But he was too lazy to care.  
"Who did you tell?" he asked, deciding that he'd better not report back to Ino empty-handed. Then there'd be blood.

Sakura shook her head and gestured wildly. "I don't know what you're talking about, pineapple-head," she growled, clearly frustrated with his questions.

What the hell was he talking about now? What did she tell? Who did she tell? Had she said something she shouldn't have? Good grief, what had she supposedly said! 

Shikamaru shrugged nonchalantly. "Ino didn't tell anyone. That means it was you who told."

"Told what!" she cried, growing annoyed now. If he would tell her what she had supposedly said, then maybe she could answer his questions!

"About you and her," he said finally, after a moment of deliberation. 

Sakura's face was confused, and then angry. "I never told anybody about that!" she cried, indignantly. "Don't you accuse me of things I haven't done, Shikamaru! Why, I bet it was Ino and she wants to blame it on me, so that if anybody asks her, she can say I was making things up and -"

Oh, goodness, she was off on a rant now, and he still had to get back to the other side of the school before the bell rang. His thoughts were scrapped when the bell overhead shrilled above them, shattering their hearing for a moment, and stopping Sakura's ranting.

Shikamaru sighed. He knew he'd been incredibly stupid in accepting Ino's errand for him, because now, he was caught in the middle of the two girls, who were, undoubtedly, about to start an all out war. Sakura was glaring at him darkly, as if he was the culprit here, when he clearly wasn't. He was too lazy to spread rumours. Rumours were troublesome.

This was troublesome.

They stood there in silence, for a long time, or what seemed like it, standing in silence for the national anthem, and then, for the daily announcements. Somebody was ranting about pizza sales in the cafeteria for that day when Sakura hissed, "Tell Ino that she won't get away with this."

And even though they were supposed to stand where they were until the announcements were over, which they clearly were not, she walked away, tossing her hair over her shoulder, growling angrily to herself.

Shikamaru stared after her, then sighed. Girls. How he hated them. They were so troublesome.

- - - - - - - - - - - -  
Hinata saw Kiba, standing in the hall up ahead. She went crimson when she saw that he'd been waiting for her. His eyes were fixed on her, as she walked down the hall. She didn't want to talk to him now, not ever.

She'd been successfully avoiding him for a week now, ever since their last incident, which resulted in awkwardness and confusion. But there he was, wanting to talk to her, obviously, as he stepped out into the crowd, walking beside her. 

"Hinata," he said at last, and he looked down at her, just as she looked up at him.

She blushed and looked away quickly, embarrassed. She could remember. . .

She didn't want to remember that night, that feral gaze on her, and her alone, just like it was now.

"Y-yes, Kiba?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper, nearly lost in the crowd.

She stopped and jumped when a hand was clasped on her shoulders, and then, and arm wound itself around her shoulders. "K-kiba. . .what are you doing?" she stuttered, surprised and incredibly embarrassed.

She didn't want him to touch her.

But he was touching her, and felt she really didn't have much of a say in what he did and didn't do, even when it involved her. Some other girls might have thrown the unwanted touch away, but she just couldn't do that.

Did she feel sorry for him?

She didn't know and she wasn't sure that she wanted to.

They kept walking, and Hinata wasn't sure why Kiba was doing this. Was he trying to prove something? Yes, she supposed he was. He was being territorial. He was claiming her as his own, and anybody who did anything to her would have to answer to him. She blushed and pushed her index fingers against each other, looking down.

Hadn't he already claimed her?

Maybe in one way, he had, and now, he was doing it in another. This was more possessive, more animal like, and she was embarrassed by it and thrilled by it at the same time. But why did Kiba feel he had to do this?

It wasn't like anybody else would want her anyways. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
Ino was sitting in the library doing research for one of her projects during an independent study period her teacher had so generously given the class. Generously was not the word for it, really, because said teacher had also given them a huge project due in just one week.

She sighed and twiddled her pen between her fingers, watching it idly. She'd rather be doing other things than sitting her in the dusty library, reading some book that was as out-of-date as the rest of this school.

She barely heard the chair beside her being pulled out, until she happened to glance sideways. A blonde girl was sitting beside her, putting down the book she'd selected off the shelf. The girl looked older than herself, by at least a year, maybe two, but she had never been good at judging ages, so she stayed quiet.

"Are you Yamanaka Ino?" the new girl inquired, without looking up from her book.

"Yes," Ino replied, rather reluctantly. Everybody knew who she was, nobody ever had to ask.

Come to think of it, she'd never seen this girl around before. She smiled slightly, still not looking at Ino. "I heard you're dating Haruno Sakura," she said, her eyes still focussed on the page in the book before her.

Ino stared, then huffed indignantly. "What on earth are you talking about? Who are you anyway?"

The girl frowned slightly, still not looking at her, then turned a page in the book. "You shouldn't deny the truth, Ino. You'll end up hurting someone, likely yourself." 

Ino was in no frame of mind to pay attention to strangers, especially not after what she'd heard circulating the halls that morning. She didn't want to hear those rumours repeated from someone she didn't even know!

"Shut up," she growled. "I don't want to talk to you."

"All right," the other girl said, closing her book silently. "I'll leave you then."

She stood up, and made as if to go, but then, on second thought, paused and looked back at Ino, saying, rather gravely, "Don't let go of what you have."

Ino stared after her, watching her disappear into the rows of books. She blinked once or twice, confused as to what had just happened.

Hidden behind shelves upon shelves of books, Temari smirked.

- - - - - - - - - - - -  
"I just don't understand," Iruka lamented, looking down into his coffee, heaving a sigh.

Across the table from him, Kakashi was playing with a ball of paper. He was tossing it into the air and batting it across the room. Then, he'd have to make another one and then, he repeated the process, simply because he was too lazy to go and get the other one. The floor was slowly becoming lost beneath a snowfall of paper balls.

"Don't worry about it," he said, replying to Iruka. "It's not your business."

Iruka chewed on his lip and marked a big red F on the paper he'd been grading, then stuck it at the bottom of the pile. "I know," he returned, reading the next sheet, and starting to mark down 'x'es and checks. "But I can't help but wonder why. . ."

"I think everybody's wondering why, right now, Iruka. I mean, it doesn't make too much sense, really." 

Iruka threw down his pen in frustration. He couldn't think right now, not with all the confusion flipping around in his head and causing pandemonium. He'd just marked something right when he knew it was wrong.

"I just don't get it."

"Nobody saw it coming," Kakashi commented drily. "I don't even think Naruto knew what was coming."

Iruka put his head in his hands, sighing and growling in one breath. Gods, he was frustrated. He was probably more strung out over this than Naruto was. But maybe that was because he hadn't seen any signs. Maybe it was because he hadn't detected anything wrong and he hadn't been able to help Naruto steer clear of the hurt that had been impending.

He wondered how Naruto was holding up now. He knew he'd been pretty shaken up during the practice, only because he'd kept hitting wrong notes. He'd seemed so distracted. His face, however, hadn't shown anything - no remorse, no guilt, no sadness. Nothing. It was about as blank as Sasuke could be sometimes, impossible to read or decipher. 

Naruto would probably surprise them all and bounce back to his former self - bouncy, loud and obnoxious to the point of sickening. Iruka chuckled humourlessly at that thought. Naruto could be drastic at times, and this was one of those times he expected him to be. He'd probably try to slit his wrists in the bathtub and go out on a dramatic note, or something equally as stupid. The brunet teacher shifted uneasily in his chair. All his reasoning had done nothing but make him more uncomfortable.

He sighed again and watched as, amazingly, Kakashi actually threw one of his damn paper balls into the waste basket.  
- - - - - - - - - - -

Itachi wandered distractedly into the house, a long time after school had been out. He'd been over at Orochimaru's, trying to sort out his head before he went home, because right now, he was scared.

He didn't want to admit that he was scared, but he was. And it wasn't about himself, or anything like that. He was scared for Sasuke, scared of what he might do. He'd taken the boy home after he'd woken up, which had been a considerable time after he'd fainted, and as they'd walked home, Sasuke had been a dejected, frail thing, who was terribly silent.

The younger Uchiha's grip had been vice-like on the elder's hand, and his fingers were like ice.

The second they were home and the door shut behind them, Sasuke had dissolved into tears. He'd been hysterical, unable to form any coherent words, let alone form a sentence, and Itachi had been scared of him, because he'd just sat on the floor, in the puddle of melting snow, crying, for all he was worth.

Sasuke had never, ever cried like that, not even when their parents had died. Sasuke had never cried like that in front of him.

The younger boy had wanted acceptance from his elder brother, and he'd quickly found that, unlike their parents, Itachi did not give out acceptance for high test scores, or when Sasuke cleaned his room, or made his bed.

No, Itachi's acceptance came from his deep admiration of strength. If Sasuke wanted to be accepted by Itachi, he had to be strong. So, he'd never cried, never broken down in front of his brother, and he'd done his best not to whine, or complain, or even to wince when something hurt. All of those things indicated weakness. 

In fact, Sasuke had managed to build up this facade of strength so well, that he wore it even when he wasn't in the presence of his brother. He wore it for everyone else, to let everyone else know he was strong. The only place Sasuke had ever been himself was in his room.

Itachi remembered that after their parents had died, Sasuke never went to bed sick, even when he was coughing and sneezing and looked like crap, and probably felt it too, nor had he played with his toys, or anything like that. It was slightly disturbing.

And then, to see Sasuke break down like that. . .

It scared Itachi. It scared him witless because he didn't know what to do with Sasuke now, because he had never had to deal with that, and he shouldn't have had to either, because Sasuke should have been past that stage.  
But there he was, crying in the middle of floor over some stupid boy, and he was the one who had broke it off, anyway! If it was hurting him that much, why the hell didn't he go apologize and make up? It was much better than this! 

But no, he was forgetting. Sasuke had too much pride to do that, just as he himself would have. Sasuke couldn't do that, because that would mean swallowing his pride; getting down on his knees and begging, and he - they, just couldn't have that.

He'd made the mistake of going back to school after he'd finally managed to lug Sasuke to bed, left a note for his aunt and great-grandmother on the kitchen table regarding his baby brother, and walked out of the house.

He'd been distracted all day long, and he'd not done an ounce of work, and as a result, he had a lot of homework. He could finish it, no problem, if he'd been in the mood. But he wasn't. So, he'd followed Orochimaru home, like a lost puppy, still distracted, and longing not to go home, because he was scared of what he might find there.

Orochimaru had gotten mad at him, because he wasn't doing much to make it a distracting activity, which was what he needed - a diversion from his thoughts, but making out wasn't really helping when he couldn't focus on that and solely that, and his thoughts kept wandering back home, leaving him blank and out of it for moments on end.

That was ultimately what drove him to go home, because, though he didn't want to see Sasuke, his mind kept providing him with all the far-fetched ideas of what Sasuke could do while he wasn't there. He was torn between staying away from Sasuke and making sure that he was okay and putting his own conscious to rest.

He crept in the door, to find Kurenai and Grandmother sitting at the kitchen table, playing a game of cards. They were being awfully quiet about it, and so, he was quiet too, barely making a sound as he took off his shoes and his coat.

He didn't bother alerting them to his presence, but instead, went right upstairs, to set his mind at ease. 

He was about to throw the door open and walk in, when he paused, hearing voices. Sasuke was talking, right then, and he wondered who on earth Sasuke was talking to, and he hoped it wasn't as he suspected and that Sasuke was talking to himself, because, as everyone knows, that was the first sign of insanity. He really did not want to deal with Sasuke being off his rocker. It probably wouldn't be a pretty sight. His brother could be pretty scary, even when he was sane.

There was a second voice, thank goodness. He was incredibly happy that Sasuke wasn't talking to himself, although he'd never admit something like that.

He paused to listen.  
"I thought I told you I didn't want to see you again."

"I don't listen well, you know that." 

"Hmph. Whatever. I was serious."

"I know you were. Just hear me out."

There was a moment of silence, before that second voice continued. "I'm leaving Konoha." 

"What!" Sasuke cried. "Why?"

"I. . .just feel like I don't belong here anymore."

There was a long silence, and Itachi drew back from the door, having heard all he needed to hear. So, Naruto was planning on leaving Konoha?

Well, he wished the brat good luck, because he didn't think he'd get that cleared with Iruka.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Gaara kicked absently at a box on the floor. The apartment was still a mess, and they'd been here how long? Three days now?

He sighed in defeat. Temari and Kankuro were both lazy asses, and never put anything away, unless he bullied them into doing it. Surprisingly, bullying them into doing stuff wasn't that hard to do, even though he was younger, and smaller than them both.

He picked up another box and started throwing some of the stuff they'd wanted to throw out into it.

They'd moved out of their mother's house as soon as they could. It was hell to stay in that house, and Gaara had felt, hell to stay with his siblings, but they'd followed him, regardless of his feelings toward them.

So, there they were, cramped and crammed into a tiny apartment in downtown Konoha, with Temari working as a waitress half-way across town and Kankuro working as part of the local troupe of actors for the local theatre. Gaara himself was trying to get back into the habit of going back to school, but he wasn't sure if he could face Naruto just then.

Maybe in a week or two, after everything had settled down a bit more.

He glanced out the window. The days were starting to become longer, he noticed absently. The sky was just now turning it's final aquamarine colour before it went navy in the night. He set the box down in a corner, where it was out of the way.  
He wandered into his bedroom, and lay down on his bed, thinking.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

TenTen padded softly from the bathroom, to the bedroom, being cautious so as not to jar the baby. She was growing increasingly fond of the idea of being a mother, with only minor lapses into her former frame of mind.

She felt that some of that had to do with her new surroundings. Neji had taken her in, not that her parents had disowned her, or anything of the sort, but Neji lived in better conditions than they did and they felt that she should be close to the father of her child. So, she had gone to live with Neji, and surprisingly, his family had been incredibly accepting.

She had suspected that they would openly reject her, or something like that, because she came from a lower class family, or because she was having a baby out of wedlock. But they hadn't. They had welcomed her into their house with open arms, and half of her wondered if it wasn't something to do with her current predicament.

She hoped it wasn't, because she didn't want to be kicked out, or treated badly, as soon as the baby was born. She hoped Neji wouldn't let them do that, but he didn't really seem to have much say in anything, even though he was technically head of the household because his father was dead. 

TenTen had quickly learned her place. She didn't question things like that, even to Neji when they were alone in the bedroom. It wasn't her place to ask questions. It was her place to stand beside Neji, and be quiet, and speak when she had something to say, and generally, observe what went on.

Still, she decided that this environment was more positive for her than her own home was, because her parents had worked so hard to see her go to college and get a good paying job and generally, live a higher life than they themselves did. Now that she was pregnant, they had seen all their hopes and dreams for her disintegrate and crumble, fall to pieces right before their eyes.

It must have been heartbreaking for them, she realized. They had always told her how far she could go in life, how great she could be, and now, to them, it must have seemed like she had thrown that away.

Well, she hadn't. She could still marry Neji, she could still be a great mother, and she could still go to school, if Neji would let her borrow some money and use it to better her education. Having a baby had not ruined her life, or so she was thinking right then.

She quickly disposed of her thoughts as she entered the bedroom. She crawled into bed, her body instinctively finding Neji's and cuddled up against him. She closed her eyes, happy to let herself rest now.  
"TenTen?"

She looked up at him, startled by how white his eyes were in the moonlight. Absently, she wondered if the baby's eyes would be that white.

"Yes?" she said finally.

Neji was silent for a moment or two, before he finally said, "The Hyuuga family always has a New Year's party, and all branches of the family get together."

He paused, and she waited for him to continue. He looked right at her and said, "I want you to go with me." 

She nodded. He didn't really need to ask her that, but she thought it was courteous that he did, that he at least thought to get her opinion, instead of just dragging her along like he could have. She had some say in what happened. She wasn't just going to be strung along, there for the ride no matter what happened.

She slept easily that night, feeling secured in her position.

- - - - - - - - - -

"So, you're leaving Konoha," Sasuke said at last, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to come as he said that.

It was painful to see Naruto there, after what he'd said to him. It broke him that, even after he'd broke him like that, Naruto still had the heart, the affection to come and tell him that he was going to go away.

It was as if Naruto wanted him to stop him, and that broke him, because he couldn't stop him from leaving, not after what he'd said to him, but he didn't want to let him go, not like that, not forever, in spite of what he'd said.

"Where will you go?" he asked.

Naruto shrugged, and Sasuke was suddenly reminded of those stupid films where the man left the woman, and had no idea where he was going to go. He simply knew that he couldn't stay, and if this had been one of those films, he would have been a woman and Naruto would have had a cigarette in his hand.

Somehow, his sheets had never seemed colder than right then.

He felt like Naruto was saying to him, "Convince me to stay," and he was trapped between the two separate paths his words and actions, and his heart and emotions pulled him in. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry. But he could do neither, so he did the only sensible thing he could do.

He invited Naruto into his bed.

The blond had looked at him stupidly, unsure of him. What did he mean by this? Dumping him, saying he never wanted to see him again, then turning about and saying, 'Come sleep with me.' Naruto frowned, and Sasuke knew that he felt he was toying with him, but he was being so earnest it hurt him, and pain twinged in every fibre of his being.

At last, Naruto did come to bed with him, proclaiming to the darkness that he didn't care if he caught Sasuke's cold, and saying how it was just for the sake of old times. But Sasuke wasn't sure, and he knew Naruto wasn't either.

They fumbled, when before, they'd been graceful, and now, they were awkward, because of the words that had been spoken between them. It was strange, and it hurt, even in the middle of their passion, because he suddenly remembered, with guilt, what he'd said, or that this was their last time, because Naruto was leaving, going away, this time for good.

And then, it became more heated, less awkward, because this was the last time, and dammit, they'd had better make it something memorable, hadn't they? Who cared what had been said, who cared what had been done? It was all over with this one act, and then, they could put everything behind them, and be done with it.

They'd had better make this damn good, because what was the point of doing it one last time, if it was only going to be bitter, or even bittersweet? No, they would have it sweet, so sweet it'd make them retch and rot out their teeth, and then, they'd know that the best thing they could do was leave each other and end it, before it got out of hand.

But as they tumbled on the floor, mad in their wild romp, they wondered if it had ever been in hand. Perhaps it had, and perhaps it had not been. Maybe they'd thought they were in control, and they never had been. Maybe they'd always been in control, and they'd just never realized it, just felt like they were spiralling away.

Sasuke found that right then, he didn't care who was home, he didn't care who heard them. He didn't care how much the bed springs squeaked, and he didn't care how much the floorboards groaned when they'd fallen off the bed. He wanted everybody to know what he was doing.

He wanted everybody to know he l-

He stopped himself short of saying the 'l' word, because, even as they cuddled post-coital, he wasn't sure whether he loved Naruto or not.

- - - - - - - - - - - -


	28. Moonbeams and Cobwebs

(Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews! Remember, if you're reading, please review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters. Again, if anybody remembers the chapter titles for Chapter 33, 34 or 37, please leave a review!)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 28: Moonbeams and Cobwebs

The last possible person Gaara wanted to see at three in the afternoon, when the winter sun was starting to wane in its airy domain, was a person who was overly chipper, overly hyper, overly loud, overly obnoxious and a person who shouldn't have known where the hell he lived anyways.

How fitting that Uzumaki Naruto, who was standing on his doorstep, fit that description perfectly.

He really didn't want to see his blond half-brother now, or ever, for as far as he was concerned those links had been severed with the death of their mother. He could vaguely remember the time, not too long ago, though it seemed like a very murky period in his life from where he was standing now, when he had sought to forge a friendship between the two of them, feeling that they had much common ground between them.

That feeling had fleeted a little while ago, when he'd found Naruto's distress at the death of his mother, a person he'd barely known. Gaara, who had known her most of his life, felt little for her.

It puzzled him a little, as to how Uzumaki had managed to get his new address, as he was pretty sure that it wasn't yet listed anywhere at all. Things like that, important things like that, took time, lots and lots of time.

He merely glared down at the overly-exuberant blond, feeling the want to smash his cheery face in, just for bothering him. It wasn't often that he slept, and if he did, it was often uneasily, so he was not impressed that Uzumaki had interrupted the first restful rest he'd had in a long time. Whatever he was there for, it had better have been good.

Forgoing any formalities, he growled, "What do you want?"

"I heard you live here," Naruto returned, nonplussed by Gaara's less-than-friendly tone.

"Yes," the red-head replied, almost angrily. Whatever he was here for, however he'd gotten here, Uzumaki's presence was grating on his nerves.

"I want to move in with you."

Gaara stared at the blond, looking boggled. Naruto shifted uneasily, glancing down at the floor, nervous laughter bubbling in his throat, even as he tried to reign it in. "So, um. . .yeah."

It was a bit bold, a bit forward of him to ask Gaara, a boy he wasn't really friends with, who, a few months ago he would have been mortal enemies with, and somebody he'd just found out was his half-brother through the process of their mother's death.

He wasn't really expecting a positive reply to that, but he could hope now, couldn't he? And hey, he could always get down on his knees and beg, maybe forge some sap story about how Iruka had kicked him out or something that was just as equally impossible.

He wasn't quite out of Konoha, and he knew it. He was on the very verge of it, on the edge of the city, and just a few minutes more and he'd have reached the city limits. He really found it odd how they determined where a city began and ended, because he could never tell which end was supposed to be which. Which end was the beginning and which was the actual end? Why were they both called ends?

He shrugged it off and looked back at Gaara, who had regained his composure, looking calm and cool, just as he had when he'd opened the door about ten minutes ago. "Naruto," he started slowly. "I live here with Temari and Kankuro. Do you know how cramped this place is?" 

Naruto said nothing for a second or two, quickly coming back, and whining, "But I haven't got any place to go!"

Gaara looked at him coldly. "Go home, Naruto," he snarled, retreating back into his house, shutting the door in Naruto's face.

Turning away, Naruto swore vehemently under his breath. "Now what?" he growled to the thin air.

He supposed he could go back and feel misplaced, feel depressed, feel as if he didn't belong. He could go back and explain to Iruka that he felt like he didn't belong, and that he had skipped school to go look for a way out of Konoha and have the teacher freak out on him. He could go back and try to sort things out with Sasuke, now that he'd fucked everything up so royally.

Sighing, he dragged the change out of his pocket, and slowly, counted it. Well, he had a long bus ride back to the other side of town to figure out how to explain shit and patch it up again.

He stuffed the change back into his pocket and started down the stairs, still mulling over everything in his head. 

He was still brewing and trying to breed answers in his head when he clambered onto the bus, absently paying his fare. He sat in one of the seats, trying to assume a comfy position on the unforgiving seats.

So, what was he going to do now? Things were easily patched up with Iruka, as he would get over the fact he'd skipped school in a day or two, and he would do everything he possibly could to make Naruto feel welcome, and at home and in the right place in Konoha.

He sighed heavily. So, really it was just a matter of patching things up with Sasuke, if he really wanted to. He wasn't really sure he wanted to venture back to that realm, not now at least, not until he had everything with himself sorted out.

He was pretty sure that he wasn't going to find the answers inside himself or inside Konoha for that matter. He needed to travel, to meet people, and finally, to understand how this world worked, and then, he needed to finally understand his role in life and bring himself back to that role and the place that accepted the role.

Sure, it sounded good in theory, but Naruto was more practical than that, and more application-oriented, so he knew that theory never applied to application, and he knew that it was bound not to work out that way. He was on a journey of self-discovery, and who knew what self he might discover.

He shifted uncomfortably in the seat, hating how hard these things were. Where the hell did their tax dollars go when they paid for public transport? To the dogs?

He shifted his gaze to the blurred scenery, to the way it was going by him so fast, leaving him behind. Or was he leaving it behind? He didn't really know, nor did he really care.

Was he ready to go back to Sasuke, to face Sasuke when he had messed them up? Was he willing to force himself to be stable when he was unstable and falling to pieces, because Sasuke needed someone to lean upon? Had he eternally broken the trust between them? Was Sasuke even willing to take him back?

Would things ever be the same between them, now that he'd done this, now that he'd hurt them both? No, he decided with a sigh. Everything would be different after this, more screwed up.

He felt like such a miserable failure. He'd had such a good thing going for him, and no, he couldn't be content with that and fucked it up, like he always did. He really was stupid, when he got right down to the bare bones of it, undeniably idiotic.

Why hadn't he noticed this before?

He was such a failure and everybody had always called him so, and he had yelled back that he wasn't, and told them, promised them that one day they'd see how great he really was - surely better than all the rest of them.

He'd had his chance, had his chance to shine, be stellar with Sasuke, because what kind of failure could catch a prize like that? Only the failure that would let said prize go again. And he'd done just that, proved to everyone that he was just what they'd always said of him. He supposed they'd had more foresight, more insight than him, because they'd been able to see how great of a failure he truly was, how much of an idiot, and how wonderful of a loser he was.

They'd realized his potential years ago, and now, he was merely just realizing it himself. Ha, how ironic it was that he was the last person to see what was clearly right in front of him.

Didn't it just suck to be him? Indeed, it did, and how he wished he was still sucking Sasuke.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Keep a stiff upper lip, don't show them anything, especially not fear, not anything of that sort.

That was the rule Sasuke was living by at the moment, having been thrown back into the thick of adoring fan girls, and sympathetic teachers, given his recent and rather sudden turning loose from the strings that had held him bonded to his most recent relationship.

Oh, what a shame, they said, and the teachers looked at him with pity, because obviously, he'd just been injured greatly for a second time in his life, and now, they were afraid, he was going to be even harder to reach than the last time. 

It was true, he was quickly rebuilding the walls of ice, the walls that kept everything he wanted in, and anything he didn't want out, walls that had taken him years upon years to build and walls that it had only taken a few quick and clever strokes from Naruto to topple.

He'd realized that walls could not hold out forever, and that they couldn't keep everything away, when Naruto had done that to him, but now, it was defence to clam up, to shut up and shut everything else off, to put as much distance between himself and the rest of the world as he could.

And it was because he was scared. He was scared of being hurt again. He had been hurt by the people he'd trusted most and he'd done this once before, and then, someone new had come along and he'd taken a chance and trusted, only to fall flat on his face, and scar himself more, mar his insides with pain and hurt.

But he was proud, and he could never admit weakness, or else, they'd clamber all over him, and swarm him, eat him alive, so he put those walls back, struggling to get them back into place before the mob saw that his fortress was broken and swarmed in to jab him full of spears.

He could barely stand the teachers' sympathetic looks, let alone the girls' annoying fawning over him. They seemed to think that if they 'comforted' him while he was 'hurt', they could get closer to him, even while he was effectively closing the gaps between the smashed stones to keep them out.

He wouldn't admit to them that he was hurt, and so, he didn't need their comfort or their pity and they could keep it all to themselves, for someone who really needed it, like themselves when the time came that the world turned its back on them and sinned against them, made them throb inside with pain and hurt.

Denial, was the first stage of admitting he had a problem, which was exactly the opposite of the direction the step was supposed to take him in. He was denying and denying and denying, to himself, to the girls, to everyone that he was scared and hurt and that this was problematic.

He'd never admit to anything like that. Not even to Gran, even though her prying eyes seemed to know all, even as she posed questions to trap him into admitting that this was trouble. He was cool and clever though, and he lied his way through it, consistently, evenly and though she knew that was not the truth she sought out, she could not pin it to him and force a confession.

The only one who left him alone, not surprisingly, was Itachi. The older boy had never been there when he needed his support, and Itachi knew that he was the only one Sasuke actually trusted enough to admit to, to share his feelings, everything that he hid under his act with.

Don't give in, keep a stiff upper lip, and never, ever let them see your afraid. It was the philosophy he lived by, swore by, even now, as he lay in his room, separated from the world by a bunch of thin walls, which could be knocked over by the next breath.

He wasn't going to cry even now, not alone, not in the sanctity of his own room, in his only, lonely presence. The blinds were draw and the room was about as dark as the night outside his window, pressing in on him from all sides.

He wasn't going to sleep, hadn't slept since Naruto had left him cold, and used that night, because he didn't trust himself not to cry for help, not to cry tears and dream and mourn for his loss. He had to save face here, and if that meant sacrificing every scrap of humanity he had, then so be it. He would not let anyone see how deeply Naruto had injured him.

He had to admit that he felt cheated, played, jaded of the game he'd been playing, tired of the tango he'd been dancing, sick of the balance beam he'd been walking on and a hundred thousand other comparisons that meant that he was worn out, and had fallen as result, hurt himself.

But that was the most he was going to admit, even to the shadows of his room.

Save face, keep a stiff upper lip and never let them see you cry.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Orochimaru had scarce ushered Itachi out of his apartment, when there came a knock on the door. Sighing and annoyed, as Itachi had probably forgotten something like, say, his wallet, or his underwear (he'd done it before), he opened the door, muttering, "What?" in as irritated a tone as he could muster.

"Snake, you and I got something to finish."  
The golden-eyed one's gaze shot up from the floor where it had been resting immediately to look Kisame in the face. "You," he practically hissed, and only hoped that Itachi hadn't been apprehended by the shark asshole in the hallway.

Not that Itachi wouldn't have enjoyed that, but. . .

"What the fuck do you want?" he snapped, not in the mood for old gang wars and old fights to come slapping him back in the face. He was still buzzing from the sex, and now, shark-jerk had to show up and completely ruin the after-effects that should have left him dulled and dazed for the rest of the evening (Itachi was amazing at anything and everything he did.).

"We've got a fight to finish, in case you forgot, Snakey," Kisame snarled, clearly not impressed with seeing Orochimaru either.

"Hmph," Orochimaru huffed. "Get the fuck outta here. I've got no reason to kick your ass, other than that you're here."

Kisame snarled, baring his teeth. "Oh, Snakey, we've got a lot to fucking fight about, so get your ass out here, or am I gonna have to come in there and kick your ass?"

Orochimaru snarled right back and took a step into the hall, shutting the apartment door behind him. "I don't know why you're persistent, shark, 'cause you're just gonna get your ass kicked."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Itachi paused halfway down the stairs, glancing back over his shoulder as Kisame walked by him. The shark hadn't even glanced his way, but had kept on walking, brushing his hand slightly as he passed. Now that he was gone, he had to wonder why the hell he was in Orochimaru's apartment complex anyways.

Turning back around, he continued down the stairs, hearing his shoes click on the dirty tiles, until the sound was suddenly drowned out by the sound of something breaking, splintering and shattering. He stopped, turning about again.

Half of him told him to just walk away, and see the consequences of a fight later on. The other half of him, was suddenly scared, suddenly making his heart leaping up into his throat and his feet seemed to move of their own accord, forcing him to run back up the stairs, as fast as he could.

The door to Orochimaru's apartment had been bashed in, and splinters lay all over the floor, with pale light flooding out to greet them, to make them cast shadows all over the floor. Blood drops spattered the floor, like tears.

He was nearly sick as he skidded to halt, crashing into the doorframe and pushing his way by the dead wood, inside the dowdy apartment, horrified to find practically everything upturned and the two men with death grips on each other, locked in a stalemate.

He wanted to cry out, to stop them, but he didn't know the words to stop them, didn't have the volume to overpower them and make them cease and desist, as it were. So he stayed there, silent, and when the window shattered, it was like the glass stuck in his throat, because he still wanted to scream, to cry out so badly, but he couldn't say anything at all, and for some unknown reason, it hurt.

Some vague part of him wondered how to grown men could fit out that window, but then again, it wasn't impossible he supposed.

He ran to the window, coming to his senses, finally, slamming his hands down on the broken pane, filling his palms with biting, broken glass, staring down into the street below, half-forcing him out the window, feeling nauseous about the almost dizzying height of the fall. There was glass all over the floor, and it had pricked into the soles of his shoes, crunching and crackling. There was blood everywhere too, more superfluous than in the hall, lying thick and forming puddles, deep stains in the carpet.

He felt weak-kneed, felt weak, just plain weak for the first time in his life. It scared him, even more than the death of his parents had. It rattled him from the top of his head to the very marrow of his bones, to the tip of his toes and every place in between. Somebody he cared about, the one person he actually did find something in himself to feel for, could be dead.

Orochimaru might have been dead.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The locker slammed shut, but the noise was nothing to match the screaming of the two girls, who were screaming at each other, making themselves hoarse, trying to explain reason to the other, when they knew they couldn't, not with the rage boiling in their veins like it was.

Sakura's envy-green glare was nothing compared to Ino's icy stare, as the girl's locked gazes and started to try and goad the other into backing down using their eyes. It wasn't working, because they were chasing each other around in circles, yelling and screaming, and getting louder with every passing second. They were so lucky that everyone had cleared out a long time ago, leaving them to argue in peace.

Peace had died, though, and the hallways resounded with their angry words, and their bicker became a feud, a war, and peace was dead.

"You dumb bitch, why can't you just keep your mouth shut!"

"Listen to me, and shut your mouth, you stupid pig!"

"You back-stabber! I trusted you not to say anything and-"  
"Would you just shut up and listen! I didn't say a damn thing!"

"You lying whore! Don't lie to my face!"

"Stop being an asshole and listen to what I'm telling you!"

"Do you think I'm stupid!" 

"Whore!"

"Bitch!"

The words were suddenly replaced by the sound of a slap that echoed, that made even the hardest of walls shudder under its force. Ino stood there, slowly, shocked, and put her hand to her swelling, red cheek, her eyes wide and unseeing, her head turned to the side, as it had when she was struck.

Sakura, standing beside her, panted with rage, her cheeks flushed in anger, her hand still held out, still tingling from the force that she'd hit her girlfriend with. She wanted to scream, but her breath wouldn't let her, and the air she sucked in clutched raggedly at her abused throat.

"I can't believe I ever fell for you," she hissed, tears burning at her eyes. "It's over, you witch!" she shrieked, and then, tore off down the hall, feeling betrayed and as if she'd been pierced through the heart.

She ran as fast as she could, choking on her tears as she went, a ragged breath escaping her throat in the form of a sob every now and then. Her tears blurred the path in front of her, and she was blinded by them as they stung her, as if they were punishment for the things she'd said.

She felt so heavy, but she kept running anyways, feet flying down the hallway. She wanted to scream out loud, at the top of her lungs, but she had no breath, and she shoved her way out of the building, into the cold winter's air and collapsed into the pure snow, sobbing pitifully. 

The sky above her was dull, and grey. It was crying tears of ice, letting the white fall from the heavens and land in her hair, a contrasting pairing, and she sat miserable there, until the end. 

Ino, on the other hand, watched her go, and let what she had said sink in and when she had processed it enough times to understand, she had slowly lowered her hand to look at it, as if it might have some sort of answer written on it.

Disappointed, she turned to go, turned her back on the wounded girl, and, wounded herself, had retreated home, through the snow to lick her wounds and rest and meditate on what had happened.  
Sakura said she hadn't done it, she said she had been quiet. She claimed she hadn't breathed a word to a soul, living or dead, and who was she not to believe her best friend, her lover?

But if Sakura hadn't done it, who had? Who knew enough of them to tell? Who would want to hurt them?

She didn't know, too dulled and stupid from the activities, from the transpirations of that time for a mystery, to wrap her head around any clues she had and seek out the true culprit so she and Sakura could get back together and put down the perpetrator.

Instead, she went wearily home and skulked about in the shadows all evening, wondering and pondering, and becoming catty and wicked. The shadows fed her and she allowed them to gorge her with ideas of betrayal and foul play, and she was certain, made bold by them, that she could outwit them, that she could play the game a vixen and win.

Lying and cheating was what was to be done, and she revelled in these ideas, let the shadows hold her close and tell her that this was the way of things, and while Sakura was outside, letting the air freeze her rage and becoming pure in the snow, Ino was left to love the shadows who loved her infinitely back, loved her enough to hand her their evil knowledge so that she could make good use of it.

That was the ultimate difference between to girls, this separation of light and dark and together, they made one whole, but separated, they were dangerous to each other, because they were so opposite.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

To say the New Year's party was a disaster was an understatement to Hinata.

So far, everything that could go wrong had and the night was but young, and nobody was ready to retire, so she couldn't possibly. As heiress to the Hyuuga fortunes, it was her duty to play hostess, and that meant seeing all the guests out at one a.m.

The evening had started out at all right. That had been at seven o'clock, just before it started to go wrong, just before dinner. Kiba had shown up on her doorstep at ten after seven, amongst the throng of guests, who were dressed in finery as the Hyuuga New Year's Party was a formal affair. To put it simply, Kiba had looked like a mutt in the middle of a pack of purebreds.

Kiba had asked her to go out and after a brief, hushed conversation on the doorstep, which had ended with Kiba screaming, "Why the hell not!", her father had lectured her on seeing such a mangy thing and Kiba had screamed some profanities at him, and she had wanted to die with embarrassment. She had been sure the blood rushing to her cheeks was going to make her head explode.

After a long and heated argument, she broke in shyly, softly and asked if Kiba couldn't stay for dinner, to which both initially refused, but at long last, they gave in, for though Hanabi was the favoured daughter, Hinata's father couldn't stand to see either of his daughters distraught enough to cry.

Not that she really was going to cry, but she had become used to forcing herself to tears to get her way. It wasn't as if she did it often, but when her father yelled at her for not getting a test mark above seventy or so, she forced herself to tears, and he immediately consoled her, condoling her with soft phrases, like, "A seventy is fine, Hinata. You did the best you could."

Kiba had stared at her a bit, and shuffled his feet, looking around a bit, completely unsure of what to do if she did end up crying.

And so, the evening had been incredibly strenuous and long, plucking at Hinata's nerves, as if they were the strings on a viola, and she was ready to scream, and had wished the floor to swallow her up more than once. 

Kiba was incredibly uncouth, but he couldn't help it, and underneath the dirty exterior, there was a cute and fuzzy puppy. He didn't know which fork or knife or spoon to use, and he was confused about the courses, and said a couple of things that he shouldn't have said in that house, let alone at the table.

Her father had been watching him all night, glaring in his direction every so often, making it perfectly clear to Hinata that he did not trust Kiba, and did not like him either.

Kiba had swore, several times in front of Hanabi, who was only seven, on the verge of turning eight, and that had earned him no points of favour in the eyes of any of the guests, Hinata or her father. The fact Hanabi had started repeating the word had only made it worse, and it had only been rectified when her father had caught her by the arm and told her, rather harshly for speaking to a seven-year-old that the word she was saying was bad and not to say it.

Finally, there had been the incident with TenTen and Neji, Kiba commenting loudly and offensively on the facts presented about TenTen, and congratulating Neji loudly for 'knocking her up'.

Hinata had never wanted to die more than at that moment.

Neji was glaring icily at Kiba, and then at her, his eyes saying something along the lines of, 'This is the type of thing you want to bring into our family? Are you insane, woman?'

TenTen had gone just about as red as Hinata herself, from embarrassment, and from that, it was obvious that she wasn't incredibly comfortable with her newfound size and shape. Hinata had apologized profusely to them as soon as Kiba was out of ear-shot, but she still felt terribly embarrassed, both for them and herself.

And when she'd wandered back to Kiba, she'd sworn he must have known what she'd done, or what she'd said, because he'd asked, rather huffily, with a tell-tale narrowing of the eyes, "Are you ashamed of me?"

Then, he'd stalked away from her, angry and annoyed, and left the house completely. To make matters worse, now that he was gone, everyone was talking about him, angrily, and gossip, rumours and gossip. All the talk made her head spin.

What catty people!

And after a while, her head stopped spinning, but everyone kept talking and she felt so mean. She felt cruel for letting these people say these things about Kiba, even when they didn't know him. She should have defended him, should have said something to them and made the stop, because it wasn't right to speak about another human being that way.

Yes, he was crude, yes he was rude, but underneath that, he was just the same as them. If she could take away their silver polish, they were the same underneath as him, truly cast from the same mould.

Feeling wretched for doing nothing, because her voice, her status, her mind inhibited her, even when her heart knew it was wrong, she ventured outside, and found him outside, in the snow, in the black of the night on her dark porch, looking like something from some sort of movie, the haunted hero, the dark villain. She sat down beside him, silent, and sorrowful, the misled heroine, silent in the snow.

She waited for a long time to speak, but he never did, until he stood up and jammed his hands in his pockets. "I'm sorry I screwed up," he said in a tone so gentle, she almost lost the biting tone it was meant to hide.

She wanted to tell him 'don't be', but her shy voice stuck in her throat and he was gone by the time she whispered the words to the wind.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Iruka had set three places at the dinner table, and three places were full, but not with those whom were expected to be at his table for dinner.

The first seat was filled by himself, as the master of the household, and so, his seat was always first. The second seat was filled by his nephew, and not his 'son', and Konohamaru sat, his little legs sticking practically straight out from the chair.

The third seat was filled, again, not by Naruto, but by Kakashi, who was becoming a guest more and more often, and though annoying, was more than welcome, especially in times like these.

Naruto hadn't been at school, Naruto hadn't come home, and that scared him. He was worried beyond belief, and he was almost sure that this time, Naruto wasn't going to come home.  
And then, he did.

The blond walked in the door, looking sullen and silent. Everyone at the table stopped and looked at him, and he regarded them dully, and then, walked by them, uttering not so much as a word, and went upstairs, shutting the door to his room.

The three occupants of the table looked at each other, confused and bewildered, and most certainly, unnerved by Naruto's uncanny behaviour.

Naruto, however, had better things to think about than how he was freaking everyone out by being so silent.

He needed to think of a way to get out of Konoha, a way to get away from it all, and never turn back. Still, he had to admit, they had him trapped pretty well. He'd almost been sure that Gaara was the answer.

Apparently, sharing half-blood meant nothing, not to anybody. He was more related to Gaara than he was to Iruka, and yet, he was more connected to Iruka, than he was to Gaara, even though he had witnessed death with Gaara, and not with Iruka.

He felt so detached then, looking down on his life, from a sort of god-like view, as he stood back and took stock of everything that had happened. What had happened to him? 

He really didn't feel connected to anything at all anymore. His reality was disjointed, and confused, and he no longer belonged here, nor anywhere, or even nowhere as it were. It was almost as if he wanted to walk away from humans, from society altogether and forget all about them, to go away from them and just spend time looking at the sky.

He wanted to be free; free of all the chains that this world had passed to him, the moment he'd been born. He'd heard the phrase 'simpler times' a few times before, but the only time he could ever think anything had been simple was in the past.

It wasn't even in the human past. It was in the past of animals, when all one had to do was eat and reproduce. And even that, when it came down to it, wasn't simple, not at all. Sometimes there was famine, and sometimes, you had to fight to eat, and sometimes, you died, sometimes you starved, which was why there was that silly theory called 'survival of the fittest'.

Not even childhood had been simple, because there had been so much to learn, and his childhood had been complicated by thoughts of being confused and alone and abandoned. He really didn't want to learn anymore, he really didn't want to learn, because somewhere inside his head, it was better if he didn't know.

It was better he didn't know why this always happened to him.  
He sighed heavily and flopped onto the bed - he didn't dare call it his, because it didn't really belong to him. He had stolen it from something of Iruka's own blood, a true son of the Umino line and not some haggard half-breed who stumbled into their ranks and pretended, masqueraded as one of their own.

Then there was the matter of Sasuke. He was so tired of how everything always revolved around the other boy - it always had, and he supposed it always would. It was like a law of the universe, like the earth rotated about the sun, making Sasuke the proverbial sun and everyone else, everything else. 

Sasuke was anything but a ray of light.

He was dark, depressive and attention-deprived, and he clung and he leeched the life out of Naruto, drained away all his feeling except for anger and annoyance. He wrung out all the attention he could from him, like he'd wring out a wet cloth, and he lapped it up like a kitten with milk.

It wasn't any good to think of Sasuke like this, because it was over now and he didn't feel half as strongly as he had before about him - there was no mystery there between them anymore. Naruto knew Sasuke and Sasuke knew Naruto, more intimately then they had ever dreamt they would.

There wasn't even that carnal lust there that had sparked their relationship in just a few shy touches. Maybe they were growing up, their hormones settling down, and maybe they weren't just incensed like they had been. Maybe they just didn't appeal to each other anymore.

Maybe. 

There world was a bunch of maybes, and he couldn't dare answer a single one decisively, not even when it came to himself, because he wasn't truly sure what he was in the grand scheme of things - a pawn, a knight, a king?

Maybe he and Sasuke were like the moon and the sun, with himself being the soleil and the moon being Sasuke, his paler, fainter counterpart, who never quite wore quite the brilliance he himself had, but he shared his luminosity with. It surprised him how mysteriously his moon wore it, how beautiful and gently, whereas he himself was too glaring, too blinding to look at.

But the moon grew dull without the sun, and waned and waxed away, becoming thin and then, sometimes, dying altogether, only to be resurrected in the nighttime sky.

He rolled over and looked up at the ceiling. Yes, the moon had all the stars in the sky as attendants - infinite numbers of them - but grew lonely and died without the sun, so as surrounded as he was by all his fanciers and all his lovers, Sasuke might face the same sort of fading as the luna.

He decided then to wait a day or two before deciding what to do about Sasuke. He had never been a patient sort of person, and Iruka had always scolded him about that, but now - oh ho! Iruka would be proud of him.

He would watch and wait, see what Sasuke did, see what happened to Sasuke without him, and then, he would make an informed decision. But what if Sasuke did not become the moon, broke his metaphor?

Smirking, he supposed he'd just wait and see.

After all, patience is a virtue.

- - - - - - - - - -


	29. Requiem of the Moon

(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Remember, if you're reading, please review! As always, warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters. If anybody remembers the chapter titles of chapter 33, 34 or 37, please e-mail me or leave me a review!)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 29: Requiem of the Moon

Naruto knocked the snow off his shoes, then walked into the school, scraping what he could of the persistent snow off on the rug. Some days he wondered why Iruka didn't just take him with him when he drove to the school, but he supposed it was because Iruka was one of those 'up-and-at-'em' types. And he wasn't.

Sighing, he tugged open the door to the music room, only to pause and note the biggest notice he'd ever seen in his life posted on the door and staring him in the face. He nearly jumped back from the obnoxious green paper.

He read it once, and then he read it twice. He scratched his head a couple of times, and then, he paused to wonder how crazy Tsunade was. Did she actually think she'd get people to audition for some stupid play?

Eh, probably, he thought, putting to rest any thought of the bulletin, and walked inside the music room. He was thankful that he wasn't the only one there, nor was Sasuke the only other person in the room. Iruka was bustling about, trying to find music, or something, and Sakura and Ino were sitting on either side of Sasuke, flirting with him so blatantly it made Naruto want to gag. Every once in a while, they'd pause and glare at the other girl when she said something particularly clever. 

They paused in their chatter and looked his way. Sasuke looked violently away from him, his mood souring suddenly. Up until that point, he'd been tolerating and ignoring Ino and Sakura to the best of his ability, but now, he kindly told them to, "Fuck off." 

Naruto swallowed nervously, watching the two girls peel off Sasuke as if they were burned, startled by the sudden anger that must have just been emanating from him. He walked slowly by the three students, to sit at the piano. He could feel Sakura and Ino's eyes on him. Sasuke wasn't looking his way, looking fixedly at the other side of the room.

Iruka obliviously continued to run frantically about the room to get set-up for the lesson.

Naruto slowly fished around in his backpack to see if he could find his music, and he sat there, contemplating as other people began to filter into the room. Apparently, the moon no longer wanted to associate with the sun.

He supposed that might be because the moon was aloof and haughty, and now that the sun had wounded the moon and it's pride, the moon had more cause to be so. But, he would wait and see, because the waxing and waning of the moon happened, not in an instant, but gradually, over time.

He'd wait and see what happened to Sasuke.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

It was like deja vu, Ino thought. She was sitting at the same table, in the same place, with the same book opened on her desk. Her pen, her blue pen from the week before, was in her hand, and she had stopped mid-sentence to look at the clock, which read the same time. 

And of course, deja vu wouldn't be complete if the same sort of thing didn't happen. The chair beside her slid out, and somebody sat down in it. She glanced to the side, and saw the same blonde girl who had sat down beside her last time she was in the public library.

The girl, however, said nothing immediately, just sat there, admiring her nails. Ino bit her tongue, sorely tempted to say something, but not wanting to at the same time.

At last, the girl said something, her voice low and calm, but cutting the air like a jagged knife. "Ino-dear, I heard you and Sakura had a little fight."

Ino huffed at the condescending tone, and threw down her pen, narrowing her icy eyes at the girl she didn't even know. "I don't care what you've heard," she snarled. 

The blonde girl smirked. "Oh, don't you now? Well, I suppose you shouldn't really. I mean, you don't know me, after all."

Ino looked back to her paper, muttering, "That's right."

She had just picked up her pen, when the girl's hand grasped her own and she glanced up, looking into dark blue eyes. "Would you like to know me, Ino?" the girl said, and a smirk crossed her features.

Ino stared at her, dumbfounded by the double meaning and the implications of that statement. "I. . .I. . ."

The blonde girl smiled at her, then handed her a piece of paper. "I'll let you think about it," she said, coyly, then got up and walked away, leaving Ino bewildered.

Slowly, the platinum blonde looked down at the paper she held in her trembling hand. "Temari,"she mumbled through shock-numbed lips, studying the number written beneath the name.

She looked up, but the girl was gone.  
- - - - - - - - - -

How utterly fitting was this. Two opposing forces, two opposing sides, two enemies were placed on opposite sides of the hospital hall.

Itachi had actually just stumbled across that by accident, because he was there to visit one of those embittered enemies. Orochimaru's fall out of his apartment window had done the older boy no good; but nobody would dare tell him anything.

He suspected that Orochimaru was in some sort of coma, at least, for the boy had been unconscious for days on end. He was worried that he'd broken his neck or something dreadful like that, but so far, he couldn't tell and nobody would tell him anything.

His teachers had practically excused him from school because, suddenly, for the first time in his life, he started to struggled with schoolwork. He couldn't tame his mind and it kept wandering back into the field of endless worry. He'd been so distracted that his teachers had kicked him out.

And so, there he was, not doing the schoolwork he should have been concerned with, because his future really rested with paper and pens, and not with the boy who was lying there, dead to the world. But somehow, he couldn't see those stupid math equation ever lending him money, or that English lesson helping him up if he fell down.

He was sure that Orochimaru, being the bastard he was, was going to be just fine and wake up and say something completely perverted when next he saw him, because he wouldn't wake up while he was there. It was like a written law, or something. And then, things would go back to normal.

But there was a tiny grain of him that couldn't be satisfied, nor assured, that everything was just fine and dandy. There was that tiny bit of worry that made him doubt and made him wonder, and whenever he wasn't there beside Orochimaru, that worry seemed to grow and grow and grow until it consumed most of him and he couldn't think straight.

He wanted everything to be all right, he really did, but he knew what a broken neck could do to you, and he knew that if Orochimaru was in a coma, he might never wake up. So did his future really lie there?

He wasn't sure of his direction anymore.

It was unnatural, because he had always been so sure of himself, so sure he knew what he was doing, and so sure that he knew how to handle everything, and just so sure that it made other people sick because he had such faith in himself.

Where was that confidence in his ability to be right now?  
He'd just happened to look across the hall and find that Kisame was lying in the bed he could see from his seat beside Orochimaru. It seemed slightly. . .ironic.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The moon was wounded, exponentially.

Sasuke held his head high and was icier than anyone could remember him ever having been after his parents had died. He was on the point of blatantly rude, if he hadn't been before, and it was starting to make his classmates and his teachers angry.

But he learned his texts and did his work, so they had no right to complain about him. He knew they wanted to, but they didn't, because he was sitting right there, and he could still hear. Even though his head was down, and his eyes were trained on the paper, he was still well aware of what was around him. 

Yes, he even knew that Naruto was looking at him, every few seconds, glancing up sideways from his work and looking directly at him. He wasn't about to acknowledge it, and he wasn't about to say anything about it, but it was annoying him. Annoying him to the point where he felt like snapping his pencil or turning about and screaming at the blond or throwing something. But that just wasn't mature and it would give his teacher a much needed excuse to throw him out of class.

So, he sat there and tried to concentrate on numbers and figures, and all the while, he could hear the click of twenty-seven pencils, when there were twenty-eight people in that room, and he knew that Naruto was looking at him again. What was worse, was that he could feel those eyes burning into the back of him, raking up and down him, like he was something to be objectified. 

What he really wanted to know was why Naruto was looking at him like that, because they both knew it was over. They had broken up, and it was done with, so why the fuck was Naruto looking at him like he wanted to eat him? Was it because he regretted it? Was it because he wanted Sasuke now that he couldn't have him?

The dark-haired boy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then set his pencil back to the paper, only to hear the lead snap, and looking down, saw all the itty bitty pieces of it, trailing across the paper like stardust and when he brushed them away, grinding into the paper, and the skin of his hand.

He was taken then with a coughing spell, which had been increasingly persistent in the past couple of days, and though he told himself it was nothing, he was beginning to worry that there was something wrong with him.

He'd taken a long look in the mirror that morning, and he'd been almost frightened by what he saw. He'd slept and slept and slept, but he still looked tired, with dark circles making his eyes look darker than they were. His hair had been a mess, but he hadn't really brushed it at that point, adding to his haggard appearance. His high cheekbone was infinitely more apparent than it had ever been, and he looked ill, peaked and drawn.

He'd lost weight too, which wasn't very good because he didn't weigh all that ridiculously much to begin with. He wasn't sure how much he'd lost, just that his clothes were a little looser, and were starting to hang off him, and make him appear gaunter than he already was.

He wasn't well, and he knew it. It made him nervous and edgy to think about what was ailing him, though. So, he didn't think of it at all, and he wouldn't think of it until he was dying. Even then, he didn't think he'd want to think about it much.

He glanced up at the front of the classroom, to find something to distract him from his work. He wasn't in the mood for working, or concentrating for that matter. He tried to read some of the notices written on the board, but found he couldn't, and they just became insignificant little white squiggles on a green backing. It was like not knowing how to read anymore.

But he knew he still knew how to read, so he put his head down on his desk and tried to nurse the headache he could feel building behind his eyes. He was intent on going to sleep, because he was so very tired, but somebody poked him in the arm with their pencil and Sakura's voice hissed at him, "The bell's going to ring."

He lifted his head, slowly, noting that it felt like a deadweight and proceeded to stuff his notebook in his backpack, just as the bell rang. He exited the classroom, just in front of Naruto, whose eyes were on his back instantly.

He stayed the urge to turn around and yell at him, stayed the urge to turn around and deck him, and just kept walking forward, eyes closed, suppressing that urge, and the urge that made him want to be sick. 

A hand on his shoulder made him lose it, and he whirled about, nearly gagging because of the quick motion. Naruto's face was full of worry, unrighteous worry, because why should he worry about him when they had broken up?

"Hey, are you okay?" 

Okay? Okay? Ha, okay, that was a word he'd never heard in his life! He didn't know what it meant, he didn't know how to pronounce it and he didn't know how to spell it. It was a foreign concept to him. Still, he merely shrugged off Naruto and turned away, intent on walking away, but Naruto was a persistent pest and Sasuke was reminded of why he'd hated the blond annoyance in the first place.

Naruto put his hand back on Sasuke's shoulder, holding him fast, and spun the older boy about. "You're wobbling," he stated and Sasuke glared at him, then swatted him off.  
"I'm fine," he growled lowly, then started to walk away.

And as he stomped off down the hall, he began to feel a little more sick, and his limbs felt like they suddenly were ten thousand times lighter than they should have been. His breath came fast and he felt like gagging, and in a confused moment, he just collapsed in the hall, and for the most part, was unable to stand up. 

Surprisingly, Naruto wasn't there to help him up. Or was that unsurprisingly? They had broken up and it was over, so what was the use in hoping he'd be there to help him up? On the other hand, the boy had been worried about him, so why hadn't he stuck around, persistently, for even a moment longer?

The world was spinning when two people started tugging on his arms, making him climb to his unstable feet and he swayed from one side to the other, like a young tree in the gale, and he tried to bring himself under control, but the more he tried, the further away control seemed to be.

Why was everything so dark?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was all the buzz in the cafeteria. Everyone who walked by, whatever way they were going, whoever it was, high or low on the social ladder, was talking about it, and he was hearing all sorts of crazy things.

The most accurate depiction he could glean from the buzzing rumour mill was that Uchiha Sasuke had fainted in the hallway after third period.

He'd tried to get answers out of Sakura and Ino, who were sitting on either side of him, but they were too busy glaring at each other around him to say anything if they even knew a damn thing. Then again, it was about Sasuke, so they knew for sure.

Shikamaru was too lazy to bother telling him, as he'd soon found out, because the other boy knew something, but he had said it would be too much trouble to explain it to him. Choji was far too busy stuffing his face to relay any sort of information, other than how the vending machine sold an excellent array of chips.

So, Naruto sat in the cafeteria, listening to the people walking by, listening to all the buzz and chatter, and he sat there and felt self-satisfied. If this wasn't proof that his moon was waning, then what was?

He knew his next move, he knew what he should do next. He needed to kiss and make up with Sasuke, and he knew now that Sasuke was missing him sorely and would maybe object to him a little bit, just to make a show, but welcome him back with open arms.

Or so he thought.  
When the bell rang to end lunch, instead of going to his class, Naruto decided to skip out and see Sasuke. If he cornered the boy in a weakened state, it'd be easier to talk to him, because Sasuke when he was fully coherent was incredibly scary.

So, he skirted by the door of his fourth period classroom and skidded down to the nurse's office to see if Sasuke was there. The nurse was out, so he let himself in, and he pulled back the curtains of the first bed, to find it empty. The second one was the same, and thus, Sasuke was not there.

Panicking, he tried his best to remember what Sasuke had fourth period, but he could not remember, for the life of him. Almost desperate, he turned about to dash out the door and nearly ran into the nurse.

She stared at him, but he bolted by her before she could say anything and ran as fast as he could, down the hall, all the way to the other end of the school. He stopped by his locker and grabbed his coat, and on a moment's hesitation, his mittens. He threw on his jacket and tugged on the gloves, then started running again, barely having caught his breath from his earlier jaunt.

This time, he ran out of the school only to find it was snowing like there was no tomorrow. The wind had turned bitter and it was blowing the falling snow into his face. Turning in the opposite direction of going home, he started to run, his breath scraping roughly at his insides, burning as he gulped in cold air. 

He tore down the street, away from the school, narrowly avoiding on-coming traffic as he dashed across the street, trying his best not to slip and slide on the new fallen snow.

He ran up the hill on one of the back streets, feeling icy patches give way beneath his feet. He practically slid down the other side of the hill, then, slipping and sliding and narrowly catching his balance, he continued to run, as fast as he could, toward the Uchiha household.

He dashed up the drive, and he hopped the little gate that led to the walk, nearly falling on his ass when he landed. He skittered up the walkway, and scrambled onto the porch, then jammed his finger against the door bell, and pounded his fist against the door.

He tried the doorknob and found the door was open, so he opened the door, tumbled inside and slammed the door shut behind him, knocking the snow off his shoes as he proceeded to kick them off. He glanced up and there was Sasuke's aunt, Kurenai, and his great-grandmother standing there staring at him.

"Good afternoon," he said, mustering the most polite voice he could. "Is Sasuke in?"

They stared at him some more. Kurenai said softly, "Shouldn't you be at school?"

But Grandma Uchiha was the louder voice and she shook her cane at Naruto, declaring loudly, "You git outta my house! You're not welcome here, you hear! I don't want you near him, so you can put your shoes back on and leave!"

"I want to talk to him!" Naruto practically screeched at her.

He was in no mood for the old bat's theatrics. She was still shaking her cane at him though, and now she was glaring the patented Uchiha glare, but he wasn't about to take it. He shoved the wooden stick aside, and walked into the living room.

"This isn't your house," he said, rather quietly, rather dangerously.

The old woman narrowed her gaze. "This isn't your house either, brat."

He said nothing to her, fear of being hit with the cane catching up with him and he ran to the stairs, dashing up them and then, opening the closed door to Sasuke's room.

He shut the door, a little too forcefully, and the sound made a resounding echo in that suddenly small and secluded silent place. The blinds were drawn, and the whole room cast in darkness, like the nighttime.

He smirked a bit to himself, and was very glad it was dark, because he was pretty sure Sasuke was turned to face his way, but the darkness prevented him from seeing the grin of someone who had conquered something.

Naruto was grinning because inside his head, he was continuing his little metaphor. He supposed that Grandma Uchiha and Kurenai would serve as stars to his moon, the persistent attendants in the luna's court. If that were the case, and if the Uchiha house were considered the moon's domain, the kingdom of the moon as it were, then he had just entered the moon's most private chambers.

He had been right. Sasuke was looking at him, eyes narrowed and dangerous, enhanced by how thin and pale his face was. The older boy had propped himself up on his elbows, though he looked like he was having trouble holding that position. His mouth was drawn in a frown, and his entire body language was screaming at Naruto, "What do you want? Go away." 

Naruto looked at that sallow face, then took a hesitant step forward. Sasuke's expression didn't change. That small room suddenly became ten thousand times larger, and walking across the floor to the bed seemed a suddenly impossible task. Still, he persevered and took another step into the room, deeper into moon territory.

Sasuke in the meantime seemed to be shrinking back, retreating and he curled up, pulling the blankets around him and trying to hide. Naruto nearly fell on top of the dark-haired boy when he tripped over an old magazine lying on the floor and landed square on the bed. The room didn't seem quite so big any more.   
"Oy," he murmured, glaring at the other boy, who looked at him dully, as if exasperated. "Don't leave your shit lying around, eh?"

He felt around on the floor for the magazine and touching it with his hand, he grabbed it and removed it from the floor. He glared at Sasuke, who would have coloured if he could have, but he didn't because he couldn't.

Naruto glanced to the side, and one word in the title caught his attention, and he did a double take, then stared at the magazine for a moment or two. He looked at Sasuke, who bowed his head and looked away.

The blond looked back at the magazine, in mock-horror. He curled in horror at the sudden thought of Sasuke having that . . .thing spread open on his bed, exactly where he was then, and. . .

"Ew, you horny bastard!" Naruto cried, thumping Sasuke soundly over the head with the magazine before tossing it away.

Sasuke rubbed the top of his head, and glared darkly at Naruto. Naruto shuddered and made a face. "Bah!" he cried, twitching. "That's disgusting."

Sasuke said nothing. Naruto prodded the older boy in the ribs, wincing when he felt the skin shift over the bones, even through layers of cloth. "How'd you get that? The old fart who runs the adult bookshop won't even let me in!"

Sasuke looked at the floor, then muttered, "My brother."

Now there was an image Naruto really did not need. He cringed again, because his mind was providing him with far too many mental images. 

And then it struck him that this should be far more awkward, because they had broken up, on bad terms, and they weren't even friends. They should no longer be talking this easily, him making fun of Sasuke and talking this casually to him, as if he were his friend. With that thought, he became awkward, and he glanced shyly at Sasuke. 

"So, um. . ."

The boy cleared his throat, and coughed a little, then mumbled with a dry, cracked voice, "Why are you here?"

Naruto stumbled. "I. . .um. . .I wanted to apologize to you. . ."

"We're through," the older boy said coldly, and turned over, turning his back to Naruto.

"Hey now!" Naruto cried, angry with Sasuke and suddenly reminded of why he had hated the arrogant bastard in the first place.

He grabbed Sasuke forcibly by the arm and turned him back over, glaring at him, reading his eyes, his expression, and then, slowly, came to the conclusion he'd been looking for. "You're sick."

Sasuke said nothing, just went on looking at him, and being ill, and getting paler by the minute. It was almost as if Naruto could feel the boy slipping away from him, wasting away beneath his very fingertips and that scared him.

This was how his mother's illness and subsequent death should have affected him. It should have scared him, and hurt him and made him want to cry. But it hadn't. It had left him numb and confused, but this. . .

This was something else entirely. It was another plane of emotional stress, another new pinnacle on the mountain of fear. It was another gash, but this one seemed to be in his heart and lungs, and the blood in his very veins froze to see those eyes and that face becoming nothing, fading away, and the stab hurt his lungs, punctured them, and made it hard to breathe, like he was a fish above the water, trying to process air and oxygen.

He couldn't.

He couldn't believe this. He couldn't believe that Sasuke, that cold arrogant jerk he'd known since third grade, when he had changed schools, was right there and then, going toward being no more. Uchiha Sasuke was dying right before his very eyes.

"Oh, gods," he murmured, and slowly, numbly, with his arms and voice shaking, he gathered Sasuke to himself, pressing that cold, thin body to his own, trying to share life and vitality with that corpse.

Sasuke struggled against him for several minutes, but his strength was waning, and he gave up before long, protesting meekly, with a tired, quiet voice, as he laid there, cuddled in the blond's arms. He frowned and tried to push away again, finding the entire situation wrong as they were through, and once again, Naruto unconsciously exerted his strength and crushed the frailer boy against himself.

Here came the tears now, the sorrow and the pity. It was everything he hated, and he no longer wanted it. He was tired of being 'poor little Sasuke' and having all his teachers give him good grades anyway, when he struggled to even read a paragraph in the text books, right after his parents died. He was tired of people saying, "Poor Sasuke. He lost them at such a young age, and he never got over them. . ."

He wasn't scared, or lost or confused anymore. He wasn't the little boy who had lost his parents any longer and didn't know when or why or where they'd gone, or even if they were coming back, and slowly realized that they weren't.  
He knew exactly where he was going now, and he was no longer confused about what direction to take. He knew exactly where his parents were, and he was like the child who went to meet those guardians at the airport, and he knew this, and was anxious to see them.

He was going to his grave.

Tears now, all wet in his hair, making him cold with their cooling presence as they dropped into his hair, onto the exposed skin of his neck, rolling down the blanch expanse, tracing gentle patterns, like someone's soft touch.

If he closed his eyes now, he could almost see his mother. . .

Was that what her touch had felt like? Soothing, yet cool? Had her hands been warm or cold? He supposed they were cold now, because bones and earth and corpses were always cold. So yes, her touch had been cool. But gentle? He couldn't remember. That was a lifetime ago.

"Hey! Jerk! Don't go to sleep on me!"

Naruto's voice warbled into his head, winding up and down, unevenly, jaggedly, like the rocks at the bottom of a cliff, and he felt the blond's grip tighten on him, his fingernails cutting crescent moon prints into his skin.

"I'm awake," he mumbled, and faintly, he could hear the stomping of feet on the stairwell, and the steady bang of something wooden on the stairs too. Who was that?

Sasuke pushed himself away from Naruto, just a bit, and looked into the blond's teary face, noting the tears, and the red blotching of the skin around his eyes, irritated by the salt in the tears. He stared into that face he'd once liked to look at, but now, he only felt numb about this person here, holding him.

"Naruto," he murmured, his soft tone barely catching the blond's attention. "I'm sorry I didn't say it earlier."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

At first, she hadn't wanted to be curious. At first, all she had wanted to do was burn that slip of paper, and with it, the memory of that blonde girl. But somehow, as she stared at that strange scrawl, in that pretty shade of blue - like the girl's eyes had been, oh how intense they'd been! - she couldn't decide whether or not she really wanted to let this opportunity slip away from her.

She could get back at Sakura, and make the pink-haired fiend hurt, just like she herself had hurt when she'd found out there was betrayal at hand. Treat treason with treason, was the poison her mind gave her, and she'd take that venom and kill Sakura with it.  
So, there she was on that winter's night, on the far side of town. She was worlds away from home, and she knew it, standing in that dank, dusky hall, which was lined with door upon door upon door, and she knew in an instant she would always hate apartment buildings. She'd found this place by looking up the phone number she'd been given and she'd taken the address and run with it, all the way to the bus stop.

She'd paid her two dollar fare, and she ridden from the suburbs, lined with neatly trimmed lawns, buried under snow, and warmly lit houses, to the core, the very depth of Konoha, with their ancient buildings, narrow streets, and their late-night convenience stores. She'd ridden out of the downtown core and beyond, toward the highway, the ancient highway that took them to Suna. And then, she'd stopped, and she'd walked, and she'd come to be standing there, in front of that worn door, and she wondered if this was really the right thing to do. 

She had no more time for thought, however, when the door swung open, and a blond boy, the shade of his hair so very like that girl's, looked at her, squinting as dim light flooded out from behind him, but his shadow blocked her from that light.

He just looked at her for a moment or two, and she felt scared, startled by that gaze, by the fact he was just looking at her like that. What was that thing you were supposed to say when you answered the knocking on your door and found someone there?

Oh, yes, 'hello' was a typical greeting. Or 'may I help you'. But he said nothing, for an eternity, or so it felt to her, as she stood there and tried very hard not to shake in her designer boots from things other than cold.

At last, he turned about, a bit at least, and yelled, calling back into the depths of the apartment, "Temari!"

There was that name! It was the name that was written on the small slip of paper in her pocket. She stayed her breath, which was hitching in nervousness and anticipation. The girl's words from earlier rung in her ears, and she tried not to let her eyes, or her face give anything away.

"Would you like to know me, Ino?"

The boy was gone now, without so much as a word to the girl standing at his door, and then, rather suddenly, he was replaced by Temari, with her eyes darkened by the poorly lit hallway, but her sly smirk made no less brilliant.

"Oh, hello, Yamanaka Ino," she said, her voice coy and curling about the younger girl like smoke.

"Why don't you come inside?" 

There was that sly innuendo again, so blatant that even the most naive twit simply could not miss its implications! But Ino nodded lightly, replying to the words, without speaking herself, because she was too dumbstruck.

She stepped inside, feeling intoxicated by that smoke that was winding its way around her, and holding her tight, and she inhaled deeply, trying to get a breath of fresh air to clear her head, but the whole apartment was filled with that heavy air, and it filled her lungs, making her head spin. The world was hazy, as if smoke-filled.

"Come on, Ino-dear," Temari said, closing the door and laying her hand on the small of Ino's back, cleverly establishing contact and guiding the struck girl from the eyes of her brothers.

Ino sucked in air, but couldn't seem to breathe, feeling warmth radiating from that hand. Her mind began to crowd her head with thoughts, thoughts of that hand, touching. . .elsewhere. She happened to glance to her left, though, and the illusion was shattered, only to be replaced by that prevailing sense of bewilderment.

Startling green eyes bored into her head, and she almost started, thinking for a moment this was Sakura, and maybe - But no, the hair was far too deep a shade of pink, more of a blood red, to belong to that wench, and she recognized this face now, as none other than Gaara, the boy who had started all that trouble for -

No, it wasn't good to think about things that had been, but the things that could be.

She turned her gaze back front, hearing Gaara turn away, and she saw, from the corner of her eyes, his disgusted scowl as he turned away. 

Temari glanced at her brother, then at the blonde girl she was guiding into the depths of the apartment, and looked puzzled for a moment or two, before smiling and turning her attention back to the matters at hand.

Manipulating people was so simple.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sakura tore down the street, sure she was going to be late getting home for dinner. Her shoes slipped on the icy patches on the sidewalk, and her hair was filled with the snow that kept flying at her. Band practice had run so late!

She skidded by Ino's house, heading toward the path that led through the woods, which they'd deemed as a shortcut when they were five. When they were still friends, she managed to think, and struggled to stay upright, frowning bitterly.

Her shoes would have made noise on the snow, other than a squeaking noise because they were cold, as she tore by Shikamaru's house, no longer caring about slipping and falling. It was bound to happen sooner or later, so why should she worry about it? There was no use in trying to avoid the ice, because it was buried under layers of new-fallen snow. Her footsteps, behind her, laid the ice bare, churning up the fresh snow as she went.

And then, she stopped, slipping and falling, though she didn't really slip so much as she crashed into something in her way and stumbled back, and from momentum, fell onto her bottom with some degree of force.

"Oh, I'm sorry Sakura," said a terribly familiar voice.

Though she dreaded to, she looked up and came face to face with Lee. He was crouching down now, extending one hand, smiling that smile of his. "Let me help you up."

She scuttled away from him, and got up herself, brushing the snow off her jacket and glaring at Lee from this safe distance. "I can help myself," she growled dangerously. 

Lee looked. . .disappointed? "Sakura!" he cried, a look of utter hopelessness entering his eyes and filling them to the brim. "Why! Why do you still reject me!"

He turned himself about, making some sort of self-prompted monologue, while Sakura huffed and went back to trying to get the clingy snow off her clothing. She glanced over at Lee, and the words, "How could my plan fail!" struck her between the ears.

The pink-haired girl paused, and she stared off at the snowbanks for a little while, before realizing the full impact of what had just been said. She wheeled on the boy in green, saying lowly, dangerously, "Lee. . ." 

He turned about to look at her, the corners of his lips trembling, indicating he was unsure whether to go on whimpering to himself or smile. "Yes, Sakura?"

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and an angry half-smirk came to her lips. "What did you just say?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


	30. Don't I Know You

(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Remember, if you're reading, please review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 30: Don't I Know You

Her words meant nothing, just soft whisperings, like the soothing sounds of the sea that she remembered, from when she was small, when she'd gone on vacation with her family, and she'd spent all day playing on the beach, with the tide roaring in and out, the water grabbing at her feet, begging her to go play, but she never could.

She remembered the light had been bright, but never brighter than this, and the noises of people and gulls and just the roar of everything had been deafening, but nothing had ever sounded louder than this and yes, the water had tickled, but this tickled so much it hurt.

And sure enough, there was the sea, roiling inside of her, her body feeling the sensation of those waters rising and falling and parting and crashing in an intricate dance, and with every passing second it got tighter and tighter, the whirlpool becoming smaller and smaller, until it drove her mad.

Up, up, up the waves swelled to the sky and then, let her crash back down, and left her on the beach, stranded and desperate, before they grabbed her back and took her higher than she had ever previously been. Just when she thought she couldn't get any higher, they let her down again, and then, built her up once more, higher and higher, and she thought she might touch the white specks behind her closed eyelids. Were those clouds?

And then, she got too high and she came back down, screaming, and then, she could think again, breathe again, and that terrible sea, the one that had been raging only seconds ago, was calmed to its slow, lazy ebb and flow.

The beach became the bed beneath her, and the world was night outside, no longer bright and sunny and the only sound was Temari's voice, but her words still meant nothing to her ears, even without the gulls, the people and the sea.

Temari was speaking, but she wasn't hearing, and so, whatever Temari said wasn't heard, and was consequently lost to the silence. So what did it matter what she said? She could have said anything, and it wouldn't matter, because Ino didn't know what she said, and really, at that moment in time, didn't care.

She wasn't really sure she'd care later, either. When everything was done and over with, and she left and never came back, would she really care what Temari had said about her? She simply couldn't fathom that, fifteen years down the road, she would be timid and shy, because lord knew what some blonde floozy she'd laid with once might have said something about the way she performed.

The sea wasn't gone, she noticed, not yet, not entirely. Temari's gentle touch was like those calm waters, caressing her and easing away all her tension, all her worries and laying her down to sleep forever on the seabed. And the wind was whispering to her still, Temari's breath against her ear, forming those whispered words, was her tropical breeze, and it was singing her a soft song, from the sky, which helped to lull her to sleep.

She went to sleep, linking this forever with paradise.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Don't I know you?"

That was what Iruka wanted to say, but he bit his tongue, kept quiet, unsure of the truth of his accusations to the woman who was standing, just a few feet away from him, with her back turned to him.

He knew her. He knew that much. He knew he knew her, all too well, because that woman there, he was absolutely sure, was his stepsister. He had yet to forget a student, and he knew he wouldn't forget someone so close to him, even though they had never really been all that close, in the truth had to be told. 

Unconsciously, he tightened his grip on Konohamaru's wrist. Both the boy and Kakashi were looking at the brunet strangely now, and he knew they were, but he couldn't help but gawk. Konohamaru was blind, apparently, because he couldn't see who was standing there. Then again, maybe he couldn't blame the boy for not recognizing his own mother.

She turned around, and he saw her face, and he knew in an instant that yes, this was her. Half of him felt like running up to her and greeting her, because they hadn't seen each other in so long, but they had never got along, so half of him wanted to remain hidden in the masses of passerby that would forever have no name for her.

He met her eyes, and she looked at him, and for a second, she didn't know him - he could tell, her eyes were blank and uncompassionate. Then, there was a spark of shock, followed by recognition and then, replaced by jealously, and a narrowing of the eyes that directed to him a glare.

She passed by him, and went away, without a word, and he wanted to turn around and follow her with his eyes, to at least speak to her, but she was gone. He looked at Kakashi, who made a motion he had come to recognize as meaning 'we'll talk', and then, he looked at Konohamaru who was pointing in the direction of a toy store.

Iruka smiled distractedly at him, and a quick glance at Kakashi told the silver-haired man that it was his turn to play the parent. Kakashi, luckily, caught on and took the lead in taking Konohamaru to the store.

Iruka receded into his thoughts. He followed the troublesome duo, but he paid them no mind, thinking back.

Seeing his stepsister reminded him of all sorts of things that had happened in the past. They shouldn't really have bothered him all that much, but they did.

He remembered that Anko had been the daughter of his mother's second husband. He remembered that the girl had been a year younger than him, and when he met her, eleven years old and the brattiest child he had ever met. She was spoiled, and he resented her for that, because he'd always learned to make due with what he had. Anko, well, she had everything.

Anko was jealous of him though, but he didn't know why. He wasn't sure what there was about him to be jealous about - he got average grades, had only one parent, had a modest life, and he certainly was not popular. But the fact remained, Anko was jealous of him.

They'd fought a lot. Anko was a wild child, and she loved to do everything she was told not to, and as he was older, he was constantly telling her what to do, or reinforcing things their parents had said.

As they'd gotten older, Anko had become the socialite. She was someone who wasn't really liked, but she liked to party and she seemed to know everyone, so she went to every party she could. Iruka didn't exactly know the exact details of the things Anko had done, but he did know that her list of drug experiments was extensive, and that the number of men she had slept with was probably twice as long as that of her drugs.

Konohamaru was the end result of all of this erratic behaviour, and the family, on both sides, had been relieved and thought that maybe, a baby would calm Anko down, domesticate her. But they were wrong. Anko had handed off her child to the first relative she could, and ran off, and then, Konohamaru had been sporadically passed from relative to relative, and on rare occasion, to his mother.

Iruka felt sorry for Konohamaru. He hated to sound so pessimistic, but he had always known, deep inside himself from the day he had known, that Anko would never be much of a mother. It seemed just a sort of fate, so to speak.

He glanced at his nephew, who was eagerly pointing at some toy on the shelf, and Iruka felt a terrible twisting guilt in the pit of his stomach - the kind that made him sick. He felt so sorry for Konohamaru right then. There was little wonder he was so much of a brat - what else could he do for attention? He had no stability in his life, with his mother just up and leaving him, leaving him in the hands of others and then, those others passing him to others still. 

It reminded him a bit of how Naruto seemed to be - how all orphans seemed, but most specifically of Naruto simply because the blond was an intricate part of his life. Naruto had always been a bit of a brat, and a loudmouth, but he was incredibly sweet if you knew how to handle him. Of course, first, you had to win his trust. It had been an incredibly hard task for Iruka to accomplish, because Naruto was wary of everybody, especially adults, at that time. Later, the blond had confided in him that this had been because he had seen too many come and go, and he just felt that in the end, everyone went away.

Iruka wondered if somewhere, in the depths of himself, Konohamaru felt the same as Naruto had when he was younger. He couldn't say he blamed him if he did, because after all, he had been treated in a similar manner.

Konohamaru was coming back his way now, gloating about the new toy that Kakashi - idiot - had bought him. Iruka shook his head, both in dismay and to clear away his cobwebbed thoughts, and took Konohamaru's small hand in his own, intent on taking him home - to stay.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Kiba was thinking. He'd been thinking for a long time now, though he couldn't really remember when he'd started thinking, but he half-expected that it was on the night of the damn Hyuugas' damn party.

Why did people always . . .look down on him like that? Why did they treat him like some sort of animal, no like dirt. Why did people always think of him as inferior, as something less than human?

He felt, didn't he? He felt the hurt of their stares, of their whispered insults, of their bold words and their generally snobby attitude toward him, so goddamnit, wasn't that human enough for them!

No, not really, because they found it fit to treat him as less than them, less than human. The only way he was human was if they were superhuman, and he refused to give them that status, the position above all else. In fact, for treating them like that, they deserved to be placed even lower than him, the spineless worms.

He remembered, once upon a time, when he was very small, his father telling him how the Inuzukas had been very powerful, and very well-respected among Konoha. He had always pretended to be a brave knight of that ancient clan, in that ancient place, while all the while detached from them, except by name and watered-down blood.

He wanted that respect then, he wanted it back. It surprised him how far one could fall from grace, how one could fall so far from favour. Sure, maybe that had been so long ago, back in the ages of endless wars and warriors and damsels in distress and all the things from his fairy tales, but the family name had been so soiled, somehow, that it was nothing that should be respected in some small way. It was something no one would hesitate to let a dog urinate on.  
Hinata had some respect for him, but she was a wimp, a shy thing that could never hold her own against anything. He hardly doubted that she'd go somewhere in the world, simply because of her heritage, because of her last name, while his kept him tacked and chained to the soil other people spat on. 

Beyond that, he couldn't picture her as anything else, anything beyond the shy, married wife of some well-respected person, a lawyer, maybe, or someone from another historically respected family. She could never go forward on her own, or so it seemed to him, because she was too fragile and too trapped by everything around her. And maybe that was where they shared a commonality.

He was bound to be disgraced by his surname, and she, bound to greatness that she did not deserve by her name, and her name alone. Maybe, he thought, vaguely, they were together, because their names clashed, and in that clash, was a sort of rebellion against tradition. By being with her, he fought against his oppression, against his disgrace, by earning her respect and making noble friends. She, in turn, disgraced her noble name by respecting something others deemed unfit to respect and associating herself with it, made herself unrespectable as well.

It was some sick sort of analysis, he decided, caused by far too much thinking, especially for someone who didn't like to think, as he did. He'd never been much of a thinker, more of a doer. He was a man of action. He loved to plough ahead, and knock everyone off their feet because they'd expected him to retreat and take the time to think ahead, make a plan. The problem always came afterwards, when he had no plan, and they recouped their strength, and their brains to conspire against him. 

He glanced to his left and looked at Akamaru, who was sleeping, peacefully in the corner of the room, his flanks heaving and falling with his breath. Kiba sighed and looked back at his ceiling, wishing sleep would come to him as easily as it did to his puppy.

It must have been great to be a dog. There were no confusing thoughts, and no thoughts of honour, or names, or breed. It was more a matter of do or die, and then, there was no thought with it, none of this depression or deep thought, or meditation that Kiba despised so very much. He would have, at that particular moment in time, very willingly traded places with Akamaru.

But he was presented with no such opportunity, and he was left to deal with his thoughts, while Akamaru slept on, into the night, peacefully.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Naruto woke, and immediately noticed that he was somewhere he hadn't been in a while. The walls of his room weren't painted blue, nor was his door on his left, nor was his bed placed on the wall opposite the window, looking out at the front lawn. His curtains weren't a deep navy blue, his carpet wasn't a strange grayish colour, and his sheets weren't a pale stonewash. There were two or three things he could conclude from this early morning analysis of his surroundings. One, he was in the room of one Uchiha Sasuke, who was sleeping noisily next to him. Two, Sasuke liked blue, a lot. Three, the room looked like night, even though he could see the bright sunshine through the damper of the curtains.

"Psst," he whispered, half-turning to be on his side, and prodding Sasuke. "Sasuke."

The dark-haired boy stayed asleep, curled in a fetal position and breathing noisily, as though there was something wrong with his lungs, or that there was no air in the room. Naruto prodded him harder, and managed to get a little whine out of the boy, who then turned over, presenting his back to the blond. Naruto frowned in annoyance, and in an act of spite, let his hand snake down to pinch the sleeping boy's rump. 

Sasuke, in the mere blink of an eye, turned over, and slapped him, hard, then, rather smartly, sat on his rear, and glared at the wounded blond, with intentions of murder. "What the hell are you doing in my bed!"

Naruto wriggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I think the question is: who am I doing in your bed?"

Sasuke's glare increased tenfold. Naruto tried his best to keep smirking, but ended up looking rather nervous. "Eh heh?" he offered, shrugging and looking nervously from side to side. "Truce?"

"Get. Out. Of. My. Bed," Sasuke ground out, his eyes never once leaving Naruto's.

The blond was pretty sure the other boy didn't even blink in the space of a minute. "Aw, c'mon, you know it was a joke! I didn't do anything, and you know it, you jerk!"

Sasuke turned away, huffing. "I don't care what you did. Just get out."

Naruto stuck his tongue out at the older boy. "Asshole," he muttered, looking away, a frown settling on his face.

He looked at Sasuke's alarm clock. He knew if he didn't start moving now, he was going to be late for school, but somehow, he really just. . .didn't care anymore. Sasuke looked less like a corpse in the morning light, but Naruto couldn't so easily shake the feeling that his ex was, indeed, a corpse.

He let his eyes wander. Every time he glanced back at Sasuke, he quickly looked away, because the other boy had glanced at him. He looked at Sasuke's pristine desk, which was so neat and tidy, and at how the carpet was so clean, and all the books on the shelf were just sitting there, organized beyond belief, collecting dust. It felt as if this room wasn't lived in. He shuddered.

He found himself looking over the names of the books on the shelf, and one in particular struck a very sore note with him, and he bit down hard on his tongue to stay tears of sentiment. He tore his eyes away from the words on that title and looked at the floor directly beside the bed.  
Besides the rumpled sheets, there was the only other sign someone had ever inhabited that room - the magazine he'd nearly tripped over last night when he'd first come rushing in, eager to reclaim his territory there.

He glanced at it now, in passing, noting the title, and how there was a woman pictured on the cover, which made him cringe. Had Sasuke been playing him all along? He frowned again, staying his resolve, and then, he lifted the corner of the sheet and threw the magazine under the bed. He was about to let the sheet drop, when the dumb thing slid back out, mocking him by staying in sight.

He grumbled and tried again, with no better results. Growing annoyed, he stuck his head under the bed to see what the hell was preventing him from throwing this whole stupid thing away. And he stared at what that was. And he stared, and he stared, and he stared.

"Sasuke," he said, in a very small voice.

"Aren't you gone yet?" the other boy asked huffily, before turning to look at him and nearly falling off the bed in shock. Damn Naruto and his haplessness! 

"What are these?" the blond said in that same, small voice.

He came up with several of Sasuke's naughty literature, staring at them disbelievingly. What was worse, was that there was a consistent mix between the focus of the things, varying from guys, to girls, to both, to orgies, and Naruto wasn't sure whether to be aroused or to be sick.

He glanced at Sasuke, who was blushing fiercely. "Um. . .um," he said, and looked away, unsure of anything else to say.

Naruto let the things drop from his hands, shaking his head slowly. He crawled across the not-so-considerable expanse of the bed to kneel beside Sasuke, and then, playfully touched his hand to the other's cheek, mock-slapping him. "You horny, horny bastard," he chuckled.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lee felt his mouth go dry as he glanced at Sakura. Sometimes, one could swear the pink-haired girl was hell incarnate, or something of that sort, and that particular moment in time just so happened to be one of those not-so-rare moments.

To be rather truthful, Sakura scared him.

"What did you just say?"

Lee froze hearing those words, and ever so slowly turned around to face Sakura, who looked like some sort of hell spawn, with her right eyebrow twitching, her mouth pulled up into a strange, angry smirk and her eyes blazing with fury.

She made her left hand into a fist, and cracked her knuckles against her right palm. "Lee, did I misunderstand you?" she said, menacingly, which meant there would be no denial of what she had heard.

Lee swallowed nervously, and scrambled for a statement which wouldn't cost him his life. "W-what are you talking about Sakura?" he asked, trying to sound as innocent as he possibly could.

She tilted her head to the side a bit and smiled more. "I think you know what I'm talking about, Lee."

He shook his head. "Really, Sakura, I have no idea what you're talking about!" 

Sakura let the smirk drop to a right out frown. "Don't lie to me, Lee. I know what I heard."

"Sakura! You've got to believe me!" Lee cried desperately.

Sakura curled her lip in disgust at him, then, on a second's hesitation, walked by him, kicking snow about, kicking it at him as she went. "I'll deal with you later, you jerk."

She walked off, leaving Lee standing there, wondering what had just transpired. He watched Sakura's retreating back, then sighed, wondering why he even bothered to continue to like the girl. After all, it was pretty well known that she would never, ever feel for him, and he was just there as something to amuse her, for her to abuse, and for her to use.

It wasn't as if she did that intentionally, or anything such as that (well, maybe the using part, but aside. . .), it just came off that way. When she yelled at him, it was as if she was yelling at him for dragging down her popularity, or because Sasuke had blown her off yet again and it was as if she was getting revenge for being put down all the time. Really, it was just as much his fault as hers, because if he left her alone, she wouldn't have him to yell at, now would she? 

Ah, but that was his downfall - goddamn his persistence. He endured and endured and endured, and in the end, he had to ask himself, 'for what'? All his endurance got him was a few pity sighs of, "poor Lee. When will he ever learn?" or the distasteful and drawling, "Doesn't he ever give up?"

It made him want to give up, to show them that he wasn't just a blind idiot, like they all thought him to be. It wasn't because he was blind that he let Sakura treat him the way he did, it wasn't blind at all.

It was simply devotion. He had felt that he and Sakura were alike in more ways than she cared to acknowledge. They were both good people, hard-working and smart, in their own ways respectively, but everyone else rejected them for stupid reasons.  
Lee looked like a loser, so he was. Sakura's forehead was big, so the other girls' teased her. Sakura had been miserable at the point he'd first met her, and he had wanted to tell her, to show her that she was a beautiful person, inside and out, even if her forehead was just slightly larger than normal. To Lee, it didn't really matter.

Ino had been there, however, and she had taken away his dream, by befriending the friendless Sakura. Nobody ever teased Ino, for she could be downright wrathful, in more ways than one. And so, by befriending Sakura, she had told everyone that the teasing would stop, and it did. And, Lee suspected, that somewhere down that road of friendship, Ino had told Sakura that she was beautiful.

Lee was jealous of that. He had wanted to tell Sakura that she was beautiful. He had wanted to help Sakura be more esteemed than she was, he had wanted to be her knight in shining armour. But, he supposed, things weren't supposed to work out that way.

Still, he wanted to prove to Sakura that more than one person in the world thought she was beautiful. Ino's opinion was very highly valued in Sakura's world, but Sasuke's was even higher, and as he kept bluntly rejecting her, Lee knew that Sakura's ego must have been suffering some mighty wounds.

So, it was up to him, no matter how low his opinion ranked on Sakura's list of "opinions to be valued", or whether his name was even on that list or not, he made it his duty to show Sakura that someone thought she was wonderful, beautiful and all those other things. He wanted to show her that she was capable of being loved, even if Sasuke didn't love her. 

Things had gotten confusing for awhile, however, and now, Lee wasn't exactly sure what was going on anymore. He definitely was not sure of what had just happened between himself and Sakura, except it wasn't a good thing, and nothing good would flower from it. 

Lee sighed again, then realized it was cold outside and headed home.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Konohamaru did not like it when the adults shooed him out of the room and left him to sit in bed, wide awake, because it was far from bedtime. He hated it when adults had "grown-up" things to talk about. He hated it even more when he knew those things concerned him.

He knew Iruka was downstairs, right then, talking to Kakashi, about him. He knew Iruka was doing the talking, because his uncle had been pensive and quiet all afternoon, when he should have been happy, and smiling and chattering.

He knew Iruka was talking to Kakashi, because Kakashi was there, and Kakashi was an adult, and these were adult things they were talking about. Also, Naruto didn't quite count as an adult, more of an almost-adult, and he wasn't even there.  
Konohamaru knew that Iruka was talking to Kakashi about him, because they'd kicked him out of the room, and adults never shooed a child they weren't talking about out of the room to talk. Secondly, Iruka had been looking at him funny all day, since they'd gone into that toyshop. It was funny, perse, just weird and kind of. . .sad.

So, he sat in the dark, waiting and listening, catches the soft murmuring of the voices far below him in the kitchen, but never hearing what they said. He expected that Iruka was planning on sending him away. He'd been through this countless times before. He'd be staying with someone - grandma, grandpa, auntie, uncle, cousin so-and-so, and then, they'd shoo him and away and talk. The next morning, they'd make him get up and pack all his stuff into his suitcase, and then, they took him on a long drive to meet auntie so-and-so, and then, they drove off, conveniently forgetting and he never saw them again.

So, as he sat there, in the dark, he swore to himself that he wasn't going to go to sleep, because in the morning, he'd be going somewhere new. And the morning never came if you never went to sleep, right?

Right? 

- - - - - - - - - - -

Itachi stirred in his chair, just slightly, then lazily opened an eye. It was morning now. He sat up, feeling the muscles in his back and neck pull and protest the fact that he'd just slept in a chair. He ignored them.

He stifled a yawn, and rubbed at his eyes a little, wondering how messy his hair was. He blinked once or twice, then looked at the reason he'd slept in a chair all night long. Who was now sitting up. 

Orochimaru, though looking paler and slightly tired, and a little scathed from his ordeal of going through a window, gave him a weak sort of half-smirk. "Were you comfortable?" he asked, his voice sounding odd, weak and raspy.

Itachi just looked bored. "No," he returned, dully. "Not really."

"Then why didn't you wake up sooner?" the older boy asked, then turned away, placing a hand to his throat, as if it hurt him.

Itachi found this curious, but did nothing to belay that he thought so. Orochimaru coughed a little, then cleared his throat. He looked back at Itachi. They looked at each other for a moment or two, before Itachi looked away, his face sour and angry.

"Don't get the wrong idea," he said. "It's not like I -"

Orochimaru, however, cut him off, laughing a little, although he winced because of it. "I've already got the wrong idea," he jibed, in good spirits for having fallen out of a window. Ah, the wonders of morphine. "Why else would you sleep in a chair?"

Itachi said nothing, and glared rather vivaciously at Orochimaru, and was, as Orochimaru hypothesized, hoping that either he or the other would burst into flames at that very second. As it was, neither of them spontaneously combusted, but Itachi was probably about as close to blushing as he'd ever be, with a pale, pale hint of pink shyly colouring his cheeks.

And Orochimaru understood exactly why he was privileged enough to see that.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sasuke was glaring at Naruto. Really, he was old enough, and capable enough to fend for himself, and even if he wasn't, he had two, count them, two, older, more-knowing females to dote on his sickness. They were certainly more knowledgeable than Naruto was in that respect.

Like that you shouldn't force a sick person to take a bath, get them out of their clothes, and then run the bath, only to find that there's not hot water, but force them to get into the cold water anyways, simply because "it might get warmer".

And when said sick person gets out of that cold bath, you should have a warm, fluffy towel waiting for them, not leave them there to shiver while you try and find one, and then come up with a ragged thing that barely passes for tatters, let alone a towel.

Or how you shouldn't dress the now clean sick person back in the clothes they were in before they took their bath, because they'll just feel dirty and sweaty and disgusting again. And most certainly, you should not feed a sick person ramen and candy for lunch. Soup, fine. Ramen, no.

Naruto really was a blond idiot, but Sasuke supposed it was just Naruto's nature to try and be nice, or helpful, when all he could be was a bumbling idiot. Though that was rather amusing in itself.

But Sasuke really did not want Naruto's sympathy, his pity, or his kindness, because well. . .He didn't know. He didn't like those things from other people, so why should he like it from Naruto? Besides, they were over, and Naruto wasn't his friend. He just wanted Naruto to go away. All of Naruto's well-meaning intentions were making him feel. . .funny.

He wasn't exactly sure just how to describe it, but he was pretty sure that this was what infatuation felt like. Or at least sort of like this. He wasn't sure, because he'd never really been infatuated with anybody.

Except Naruto. And he really did not want to face the idea that he might be infatuated with Naruto again. It made him grimace.

He sighed and decided that though it was one of those things, like dying, he was going to have to face the idea of liking Naruto sooner or later, and if he was sick and incoherent when he faced it, well, maybe he could make his screwed up logic make sense. Medicine never did help him think.

He glared down the end of his nose at the chopsticks Naruto was holding out to him, resisting the urge to let his lips twitch in disgust at the instant noodles twirled tightly around them, like -

'Okay,' he thought to himself, still glaring at the ramen, though the glare had been increased tenfold now. 'Stopping that train of thought now. No more of that shit, Uchiha.'

Maybe it was just medicine that was making him think this way. Yeah. That was it. Medicine always made his head spin, and his thoughts were always very, very fuzzy when he was on something. So, yeah. He didn't like Naruto at all. It wasn't Naruto making him feel fuzzy and warm and tingly all over, it was just the stupid medicine.

The only problem with that theory, he realized a second or two later, was that he hadn't had any dosage of anything in over eight hours.

He kept glaring at those noodles, never noting how Naruto was glaring back at him now, trying to tell him to be a good boy and eat his lunch. 'Shut up!' he was screaming at his mind busily. 'Just shut up!'

Honestly, he didn't need or want logic to ruin his perfectly logical excuses. He needed those excuses, needed them in the way a drug addict needed drugs, and he needed them to keep eluding himself, for if he could elude himself, he could elude everyone else, including Naruto.

A cold hand to his cheek made him jump and he looked at Naruto who was sitting beside him now, having abandoned the noodles, leaving them to cool and go cold. The blond would probably eat them anyways, Sasuke mused.

"Is something wrong?" Naruto was asking him, tucking his unruly bangs behind his ear. Sasuke glared sideways at him.

"You spaced out," the blond continued, ignoring the way that Sasuke was glaring at him for touching his hair.

Sasuke was planning on saying nothing, but somehow, his tongue and mouth decided it would be a good time to revolt against his reign, and the words just slipped out, into the open air. He really hadn't wanted for those words to escape. Those words were supposed to stay locked down, inside of him forever and ever. They weren't for anyone to hear, especially not Naruto. Not Naruto, never Naruto. . .

Naruto wasn't supposed to hear him say that. He wasn't supposed to let Naruto hear him say, "You're making me feel funny."  
And of course, trust the blond moron not to get it. Naruto cocked his head to the side and looked at him strangely, blinking a couple of times for good measure. "What?" he asked, his voice denoting his complete and utter lack of understanding.

Sasuke sighed, and he told himself that he wasn't going to repeat what he said. He was going to rectify that mistake and not say anything at all to Naruto, and he was simply going to say, "Never mind."

But since when did "never mind" sound like "I said"? And when did he ever follow "never mind" with "you're making me feel funny"? Naruto looked at him strangely, still not understanding, and Sasuke went scarlet and felt very stupid, because he'd just promised himself he wouldn't repeat his words, and now, there was no way to deny that he had said what he had said.

"I'm making you feel funny?" Naruto asked, cautiously, taking his hands off Sasuke. "Am I doing something wrong?"

'Yes,' Sasuke decided in his head, but he shook his head, indicating to Naruto that everything he was doing was perfectly okay, even if it wasn't.

Naruto sighed, looking relieved, then realized that there must be something else wrong then. His eyes snapped open and he looked directly at Sasuke. "Then why. . ."

And then, Sasuke supposed it dawned on him, because he smiled. He smiled widely and broadly. "Oh, Sasuke. . ," he murmured, then leaned forward, embracing the other boy, who tried to pull back, and only succeeded in making them a muddled heap on the bed.

"You make me feel funny too," Naruto said, his voice muffled by Sasuke's chest.

Sasuke hurt at that particular moment. He hurt, not physically, but in his soul, in his heart. He wanted to cry. He wanted to push Naruto away, wanted to cry, wanted to scream and half of him just wanted to sleep. 

He moved a bit, gently at first, signalling to Naruto to move. The blond obliged and he sat up a bit, more as Naruto slid off him.

He shivered a bit. He couldn't believe how much he'd missed that. He had wanted Naruto to touch him, to hold him, and he couldn't believe just how much he'd been craving that affectionate touch.

It scared him that he'd missed Naruto that much, and they'd only been apart a short time. He wasn't sure as to cry, laugh or throw up for being so needy. He could only abstractly understand why he might be that way.

He's shut out touch and love and laughter when his parents' died, and he'd tried to shove away the entire world. He'd tried to shut them out, and he'd repressed the part of him that told him he was a human being with needs and wants, and one of those was affection.

And then, lo and behold, there was Naruto give him that affection and that love, and then, that little part of him that had withered in the corner from years of neglect and disuse had been resurrected and it had taken over him.

That was what he had been scared of in the first place. He had been scared of never having anyone to fill that void he needed filled and then, falling in and falling through it, forever, and ever, until he drowned in his absolute need for affection.

Was he that weak? Had he always been that weak and just trying to hide it?

"Hey, you're spacing out again." 

He looked at the blond, who was smiling somewhat sadly at him. "Hey. . .yanno, when I said. . .that, I didn't mean to scare you or anything. . ."

"I wasn't scared," he whispered, feeling the need to be quiet, and the need to be closer to Naruto.

"Well, whatever," Naruto said, clearly not sure as whether or not to believe his ex, looking away from the boy practically in his lap, a slight pout forming on his lips. "I was just saying what I felt."

Sasuke said nothing, for a long while, then shrugged and said, "It doesn't matter."

Naruto stared at him for a moment or two, looking insulted and indignant, and then, a strange little half-smile lit his features. "You're right," he said. "It doesn't matter."

What Sasuke had meant by that was not that it didn't matter that Naruto loved him, but rather, that Naruto had said it in the past. It did not matter, because the past was full of things that could not be changed, because they'd already been done. It didn't matter if Naruto had loved him in the past.

It mattered if Naruto loved him now. Determined to prove so, and no, he didn't care if Sasuke was sick or not, because dammit, he might never get another chance to prove himself, Naruto went down on Sasuke.

But somehow, he couldn't bring himself to go farther than petting and necking. Maybe he was just scared that if he went farther, and got Sasuke out of his clothes, he'd have to face just how much his moonlight had faltered and failed. He'd avoided looking at Sasuke when he'd made the other boy take a bath specifically for that reason.

So, they kissed and licked, and touched and nuzzled. They cuddled and caressed and fondled and canoodled. In general, they were fairly satisfied with that. They might have gone farther, had they had half a mind to, had they really wanted to. Oh yes, sex was nice and such, but Naruto was timid of it, because Sasuke wasn't well, and really, would he want to? Besides, they'd only newly become "together" again, and he didn't want to drive at it, if Sasuke didn't want to drive at it too.

What was the point if they both weren't into it? Naruto knew he'd only worry about Sasuke if they went ahead, and he'd wonder if Sasuke only said yes because he wanted to make it up to Naruto for doing something he'd done wrong. Naruto forgot what Sasuke had done to him the second he'd kissed the other boy. Sasuke was like candy, something a parent bought you to make you forget that they'd done something you'd deem was wrong. Not that Sasuke could be bought like candy, of course. Nor had his parental given him Sasuke.

So, they stuck with what they were doing. The touches weren't meant to invoke desire, or anything like that, they were simply to touch and to feel, something that was rare among boys their age, or so they thought at that particular time.

They cuddled afterwards, when touching grew not quite so fascinating any more, and Sasuke fell asleep in Naruto's arms, and Naruto was quite content to have him there. The moon and the sun had fallen back into their proper routine.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -


	31. In Retrospect

(Author's Note: If you're reading, please remember to review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 31: In Retrospect

Things were awkward, to say the very least. Itachi didn't seem. . .ready. Or something along those lines. But then again, he was never ready, and had never been ready when it came to Orochimaru. It amused Orochimaru to know that. He knew very well that he had taken the uppity, snobby Itachi by storm back when he was a stupid freshman. ..ah, that had been fun.

Itachi had. . .bothered him, when he first met him. He was a genius, a true, blue genius, but somehow, it had occurred to him, that not everything came so naturally to Itachi. It still amazed him just how right he was.

Itachi was not natural, but clumsy and unlearned, which somehow came as a great surprise to Orochimaru. Surely such a pretty person was not a first timer, a shy little virgin? But he was. It confused Orochimaru - how had Itachi scraped by without being thrown to the ground and brutally fucked? All the other people Orochimaru knew, some who weren't even half as pretty as Itachi was, weren't virginal, for one reason or another. Orochimaru had never really asked, and never really bothered caring about the other people he knew.

He knew how it was done, but he wasn't sure anymore where he'd learned it from. When it came down to things like sex, it was all about experience. Never mind natural talent, or instinct, or anything silly of that sort. It was all in confidence, in knowing what you were doing and having confidence in that knowledge. At least, that was how it was for him. 

He hated Itachi at first. It wasn't hard to do. The boy thought he knew everything, and he didn't, and he was snobby, and pretty. It wasn't hard to hate him, wasn't hard to want to teach him a lesson for acting like he was better than everybody. So, devious Orochimaru devised a plan to cure the Uchiha bitch of his superiority complex once and for all. It hadn't really worked, as they were always trying to be one-up on each other, and often fought, but he had managed to get Itachi tangled up in the mess of a life he had.

He hadn't wanted Itachi after the first time, because the boy's inexperience shone through. Oh, he had natural talent, and he caught on quick, but it wasn't enough. He had no experience, no confidence in what he was doing. He was nervous and scared, and his entire body showed that, tensing up, and he was submissive, letting Orochimaru take the lead. That submissiveness made Orochimaru mad - where was the obnoxious little prick he had known from language class?

He'd just rediscovered said prick, Orochimaru realized rather belatedly, looking at Itachi, who was still sitting in the hospital chair. What devotion. Itachi wasn't looking at him though, staring steadfastly at the tiles on the floor. "You're up," he said, blandly.  
"Yes," Orochimaru replied, combing out his hair with his fingers.

"Hn," Itachi said, and the room fell silent. Somehow, the dark-haired boy knew just how to kill a budding conversation. Orochimaru sighed, and leaned forward, stretching to touch his toes. His back muscles groaned in protest. 

"So. . ."

"Hn."

Orochimaru sighed and settled himself against the lumpy hospital pillows. He looked at Itachi, and just sat there, meditating. He wondered how he'd come to be there, in the hospital, surviving whatever had been thrown at him this time. He wondered how it was that he just kept surviving, and going on. Every time something bad happened, he'd wake up in the hospital, which was gleaming white, and he'd wonder if he was dead. Then, he realized that no, he wasn't, that he'd survived again, and was going on.

Breathe in, breathe out, and just keep going. It was strange. By all rights, he should have been very, very dead at that point. But he wasn't. So, he took it for what it was, and made it nothing more, and just kept going.

He looked at Itachi, then frowned. "Hey. . ."

The dark one looked at him. "What?"

"What do you make of it?" he asked, looking away, toward the window.

"Of what?" Itachi asked, his voice bordering on annoyed, a subtle hint telling the other so, so subtle that hardly anyone could detect the change.

"Of this! I'm still here. What do you make of it?"

Itachi snorted. "I don't make much of it. I'd make more of it if you were dead."

The younger boy looked away, and Orochimaru pulled a face. "Oh-ho, snarly are we?"

Itachi glared. Orochimaru looked away thoughtfully. "Though I suppose hours on end in a hospital chair will do that to you!"

Itachi just glared some more. Orochimaru didn't dare look back at him, just in case. When Itachi wasn't in good humour, nobody else should be. 

Orochimaru sighed and looked away from the weasel, who was now glaring at him steadily.  
Orochimaru had never lived the high life. He had been born to a dysfunctional family - a mother who was too young, a father who was not there, or abusive, and both were drug addicts. His mother had been just newly sixteen when he was brought into the world, and his father had been doing jail time for drug possession and statutory rape.

For the first five years of his life, Orochimaru had lived with his mother, in a run-down slum, in a dank, drafty apartment, but he hadn't really minded, because he'd never known anything else. It had been just fine, until the man he was to call 'father' came home.

How he found them, he didn't know, nor did he care. He knew only that he had wished the man would go away. His mother acted strangely when the man came back, stranger still when he stayed with them. She sported lots of bruises, and cuts, and when he asked, in his stupid, childish way, she had just said that she was being clumsy and careless.

She wasn't clumsy and careless physically, but she was clumsy and careless with her words - she always had been - and he hurt her for it. He hit her, he swore at her and degraded her . He would grab her by the arm and twist it back, until she shrilled her apology to him, sobbing, and then, he'd slap her twice, hard enough to bruise and let her fall to the kitchenette floor. Orochimaru remembered asking her why she put up with him, why she let him stay if he did that to her, and he got a variety of excuses.

Where else could she go? Besides, she loved him. He needed a father figure in his life. He brought her drugs, and that was the one reason Orochimaru established as true. They were both crackheads, and he could remember sitting in the living room, watching the ancient television, as they sat behind him, snorting the white powder off the table, giggling together. 

He'd stood up to the man once, for his mother, because he'd thought she was just weak, not stupid. He'd thought of heroism in his childish little mind, and he'd found her somewhere there to be the damsel in distress, and he stood up to that man to save her. He'd been struck down, and nearly killed, and nothing had come from his little act of bravado but his mother's cold shoulder.

He'd been bitter then, and he rebelled against his father, hating the man. How could such a dirty, low-down man tell him what to do! He wasn't going to lie down and take it like his mother did, because he wasn't stupid like she was. He wasn't blind like she was.

He knew it was wrong.

When the man came back, something else dramatically changed in Orochimaru's life. When he was six, he'd obtained a sibling, a little brother, who was sick and weak - because of their mother's bad habits. The younger boy was always feeble, always weak and snivelling, a crybaby almost blind in his left eye, with half the intelligence of a rock. Orochimaru hated the boy, because he was clingy and obedient to their father, and he was always scared.

But Orochimaru protected him, because he knew what was wrong, and he knew that none of this was right, and he felt it his duty to protect the blind. And then, there had been three of them, with a little girl, more feeble than his brother, and this time, blind in both her eyes, destined never to see the outside world.

She was quiet, and obedient, and she did not cry like their brother did, so she earned a bit of Orochimaru's grudging respect that way, but she lost it through her blind following of orders. And so, Orochimaru protected her too. He was her eyes, and he tried to lead her through the dark, to the light, but she would have none of it.

"Orochimaru, big brother, listen to Father." 

She always said that to him, but he'd have none of it, because what Father did wasn't right. He knew that he'd hit the blind children, the disabled, because did not Father hit his pregnant wife, and beat her to the floor, while she was heavy with child? 

Where was the righteousness in that? He'd rebel, and he'd keep rebelling until it killed him, because it was what he believed in. Sure the rebelliousness landed him at the hands of their father's violence, but the other two stayed safe, never at his wrath, and they never sported bruises like he did.

And then, there were five of them, the three of them joined by premature, sickly twins who fought for every breath they ever took, battling with weak lungs, weak hearts and a prenatal addiction to cocaine. They were born fighters and Orochimaru thought that maybe they would fight with him, but when they were old enough, strong enough to live day to day without fear, their spirit had somehow fizzled and they just wanted to live without the fight. Orochimaru remained the rebellious older child, the only one on the battle field, because he knew this wasn't right!

Then, there was a sixth child, his second sister, and then, a seventh, another sister. Neither wanted to fight for his cause either, and he was left alone to confront everything. By this time, he was ten, and he was on the verge, or so he thought, of becoming an adult.

Then, one day, he'd woke up and everything was quiet. Silent. There was a sort of peace over the apartment, something that hadn't been there for a long, long time. He could no longer remember whether or not it had ever been there before.

They were gone. Both of his parents had up and left during the night, and he never met them again, though he was unsure of whether or not to be grateful for this. They were gone, and he was not. He had no money, no job, rent to pay and suddenly, six other children to support. He knew of no other relatives, no friends of his parents that he could turn to and in dire need, he had searched everywhere.

He promised that he'd take care of them, because he was the oldest, because he knew it was right. They all looked up to him, they all needed him to take care of them. The second oldest child was only four. He couldn't leave them to fend for themselves.  
He'd made some bad choices then, some stupid choices. He wasn't a pretty boy, he knew, not like Itachi was, but he was fair enough, and he got himself into trouble once or twice, on the cold pavement. When he'd come home to the other children, smeared in blood and nearly howling in pain from the walk, and they'd asked him what had happened, he told them he simply got into a brawl. They understood - he was always fighting.

He'd met Kabuto then. Kabuto was roughly the same age as him - younger than him, really, by a good deal, but closer to his age than any of his siblings were. Kabuto's parents were dopeheads too, but they weren't home half the time. Kabuto had given him some of the stuff he'd stolen from their stash once, and told him to sell it. 

Kabuto, he thought, didn't have a mean bone in his body. He was interested in medicine, in healing and helping people, and he wanted to help. Orochimaru admired the younger boy for his caring attitude, but couldn't relate, for his help had always gone unwanted. Kabuto, he knew, paid his rent and bills by selling what he could of his parents' stash, without getting caught, working at his uncle's antique shop downtown, and treating minor injuries from street fights.

Kabuto was cruel, Orochimaru later found out, and crafty. He laced the stitches he used with poison instead of antiseptic, and then, the wound would fester and get worse, driving the injured back to his doctor. He'd give his patients heroin, or cocaine, or anything he could find and pass it off as "painkillers", and drive them into the spiral of addiction, with him as their dealer, until they could no longer pay.

Kabuto was double-dealing and sly, yes, but with Orochimaru, he was always perfectly honest. The boy had never lied to him - as if he couldn't. Kabuto gave him money if he wasn't going to make the rent, and he never asked for it back. All he asked was Orochimaru's company - not even for friendship, just company.

It had never really occurred to Orochimaru, not until recently at least, that Kabuto was in love with him. But it made perfect sense. In the time and place they'd been, however, love was a far off thing, and Orochimaru had all but forgotten love.

Kabuto inherited his uncle's shop when he turned thirteen, because the man had died of a heart attack. Kabuto had been stricken with grief, and then, only a few weeks later, Orochimaru had given up on his siblings, finally sick and tired of being the pillar of support and moving away, running away. 

He'd never lost touch with Kabuto, though they might have been out of contact for months at a time. In the end, he always came back to the silver-haired boy, to let him know that he was still surviving. But to him, that wasn't love. Devotion, maybe, concern perhaps, but not love.

Love, to Orochimaru, was what he shared with Itachi, the never being able to see eye-to-eye, the fighting and the way they could somehow, always patch everything up and say that it was all right.  
- - - - - - - - -

"Lower, . . .lower. No, Naruto, you're not doing it right," Sasuke whined.

Naruto gritted his teeth and growled. "You're a brat, you know that?" he spat at Sasuke, who whimpered suddenly in delight.

"That's the spot," the dark-haired boy practically purred, arching his back into Naruto's touch.

Naruto sighed, and continued to scratch, rather ruthlessly now because he was mad, at Sasuke's back, his hand moving underneath the boy's pyjama shirt. "Better now?" he asked, pausing and leaning forward.

Sasuke nodded and curled himself up in a ball, seemingly intent on going to sleep. Naruto sighed and slumped back onto the bed, petting Sasuke's soft hair. He glanced at the clock, noting it was well after four o'clock and maybe, they should see about dinner, or something, because Sasuke probably hadn't hauled himself from bed all day.

"Ready for dinner?" he asked the other boy, brushing back his bangs.

"No," Sasuke groaned in reply, as if the mere mention of food was horrific. 

Naruto sighed. Three days had passed, and Sasuke was getting worse, and worse, instead of better and better. Any semblance of strength had left his body, and he was frail, weak and nauseous, most of the time. Naruto had been over everyday after school, giving Sasuke his homework, and administering some care. It surprised him that Sasuke said nobody was allowed in his room but him. Damn Uchihas and their independent ways.

Naruto grabbed Sasuke around the waist and hauled him up, into a sitting position, noting that the boy got lighter every time he had to do it. "You're getting thinner," he murmured in a taunting tone.

Sasuke said nothing but sagged into him, sighing heavily. "I wish you wouldn't do this," he murmured.

"Do what?" Naruto asked, rubbing his fingers unconsciously over the bony protrusions of Sasuke's ribs.

Sasuke said nothing, but slid out of Naruto's grasp. It scared Naruto how easily he let him go. Sasuke straightened out the folds in his shirt, and tried very hard to keep his balance. He was getting worse, even if he didn't care to admit it.

"Let's go get dinner," he muttered in annoyance. He really didn't feel like eating. The thought of food just made him feel more sick than he already did. He padded over to the door, slowly, the sick feeling rising up inside him from the movement.  
Naruto rolled his eyes at him, and Sasuke paused, leaning against the door, swallowing bile. Naruto touched his cheek gently, and he turned away. "Changed my mind," he murmured. "I don't wanna eat."

Naruto pressed his hand to Sasuke's forehead, frowning. "You're burning up again," he murmured, softly.

Sasuke sank to his knees, groaning, feeling as if he was going to die. Naruto followed him down and wrapped him up in a blanket and his arms, and held him close as he shivered and whimpered. This just sucked. It really did.

He closed his eyes, lightly, just planning on resting until the wave of nausea passed and he could crawl back to bed and hide under the covers, but he kept going, falling deeper into sleep, until he was fast asleep, deep in slumber that he probably needed. Naruto sighed and dragged the other boy back to bed, tucking him in firmly.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Naruto trudged home in the lamplight, shuffling his way through the snow and ice that still lay on the sidewalks. He wished it would go away soon. Winter seemed so long this year, somehow, and he thought that maybe, summer weather would help Sasuke feel better.

He threw off his shoes when he walked inside the house, the cold concrete of the foyer floor leeching heat from his socked feet. He shut the door behind him and avoided stepping in the cold, wet puddles left by Konohamaru and Iruka's shoes when they'd come in. He skipped into the kitchen. 

He stopped dead.

There, sitting in his kitchen, staring right at him with huge green eyes was Gaara. Naruto swallowed nervously. "What are you doing here?" he asked, quietly, taking a cautious step into the kitchen.

Gaara just looked at him, his gaze saying, "You should know why I'm here."

Silence owned the kitchen for a moment or two, before Gaara spoke in a low, even tone. It perplexed Naruto how calm Gaara could be, even in this place, somewhere he'd never been before.

"Uzumaki, you still want to get out of here?"

Naruto bit his tongue, and thought about it. Yeah, he still did want to leave. He wanted to stop hurting the people he loved, and he wanted to get away from them. But, he couldn't leave Sasuke, could he? Not in the condition he was in, not right at that moment. But then again, Sasuke's bitter words to him rung between his ears, repeating over, and over, "I wish you wouldn't do this." What didn't Sasuke want him to do? 

"I don't know," he said at last, unable to come to a firm decision.

Gaara seemed to have noticed that it had taken Naruto too long to respond. "I . . .think I get it. It's that Uchiha bitch, isn't it?"

The way Gaara spat the name brought up none-too fond memories and Naruto nearly winced. He'd forgotten entirely, and suddenly, the whole thing was put into a new light, because now, Gaara was his half-brother. His half-brother, his half-brother that had raped -

It was Gaara's fault that Sasuke was in the mess he was, it was Gaara's fault he was sick. It was. . .Gaara, who had fucked everything up.

But still, Gaara wasn't so bad, at least, not to him anyways, and Gaara had only hurt him remotely, through Sasuke. He was staring at the floor, he realized, in deep thought. "Gaara," he said, suddenly looking up. 

Cool green eyes were turned in his direction. Naruto frowned. "Why? Why did you do that to him?"

Gaara sneered, a storm cloud breaking over his features. "Bitch deserved it, didn't he? He thought he was all that, treated you like you were his - "

"I am his," the blond interrupted, his voice sounding impertinent in the kitchen.

Gaara looked almost angry, then shrugged. "That's none of my business, I suppose. But, you and I could be friends. We're more alike than you think."

Naruto had noticed that, disturbingly enough, and he remembered now that Sasuke had tried very hard to be a barrier between them. Gaara had been trying to take that barrier out. Naruto licked his suddenly dry lips. He looked at Gaara. "Why don't you come upstairs? It's more private than here."

Gaara shrugged, as if the whole thing didn't matter to him, and Naruto supposed it didn't. He walked out of the room, and the redhead followed him. Silently, they went upstairs together, and Naruto shut the door to his bedroom, locking them both inside.

He turned to face Gaara, and suddenly, everything was awkward. Why was it so hard to talk to the other boy? He, Naruto, never had a problem talking, but now, he was silent, and could think of nothing to say.

"So. . ."  
Gaara said nothing, and it struck him that Gaara was just like Sasuke - quiet to the point of being scary, stuck up and haughty. Maybe that was why the two had fought. Maybe they simply couldn't see eye to eye because they were too much alike not to butt heads. Naruto sighed and glanced at the floor of his room, noting how his feet were starting to sink into the carpet.

"I wanna get out of here," he said, softly, thoughtfully.

"Then you should leave." 

Gaara glanced at the clock on Naruto's bedside table, then frowned. "It's too late now to catch the bus, but the trains run all night long."

Naruto sighed and hugged his elbows. He really. . .just wanted to go. To leave everything behind him, to start anew and just forget everything. Maybe he could get a job, an apartment, find somebody - a girl - and just. . .live a normal life. 

Gaara was looking at him intently now. "You'd like to get out of Konoha altogether, wouldn't you?"

Naruto started. It was as if Gaara had read his mind. He did want to get out of Konoha. Lately, the city had just been too busy, too rushed for him. He wanted to go out to the middle of nowhere, and just. . .just. 

Stop.

He sighed heavily. He could hear Iruka and Konohamaru moving around downstairs. He thought the telephone might have been ringing. He wasn't sure. He wanted to cry. "Are you going?" he asked, moving his bright gaze up to meet with Gaara's. 

The redhead snarled. "Yes, I am. By all means, I can't spend another day with that damn Temari -"

"What's wrong with her?" the blond boy asked, curiosity glancing in his eyes.

Gaara's expression became nastier. "Her and that Ino person, always in the house. It's crowded enough as it is." 

"Ino? And Temari?"

Gaara nodded, looking only slightly disconcerted by Naruto's vague expression of horror. "But. . .but Ino's with Sakura!"

Gaara snorted. "And Temari as well. Girls are all the same, Naruto. Lying, cheating bitches." 

Naruto said nothing. He could only say that there was one girl who had truly been nice to him and that had been Hinata. Ino had always hated him, and Sakura had hurt him, many times. His mother had hurt him worst of all.

Gaara had stood up now, while he was in deep thought. The redhead brushed by him, placing his hand on the doorknob. "Naruto, I'm leaving. If you're going, meet me at the train junction in half an hour. The last train for tonight to Kiri leaves then."

The door opened and Gaara stepped out into the hall. Just as the door was about to close, Naruto spun around, grabbing his half-brother by the arm. Gaara turned about to face the blond. Naruto squinted, trying to read the other boy's eyes in the darkness of the hall. "Will you go without me?"

Gaara sighed and closed his eyes. "Yes," he said finally. "I'll go without you."

He turned around again, shaking Naruto's grasp from him. "You're nobody to stop me."

The redhead started down the stairs. Naruto frowned, then sighed, and followed his half-brother. His mind was in turmoil - hadn't he decided this weeks ago? Why was he still thinking about it then?

He paused at the bottom of the stairs, but Gaara kept walking, never once looking back at him. He could hear Iruka on the telephone, talking, as if talking to himself, but it made no sense to Naruto's ears. 

He followed Gaara into the kitchen and he stood by the open door, looking into the foyer, watching the redhead put on his shoes and grab his coat. Gaara glanced at him, as if uncertain of him, then nodded once and opened the door. Naruto lingered a while longer, after hearing the door close, then turned back to the kitchen. 

Iruka had just hung up the telephone, and the brunet now turned to look at him. His expression was so serious that it almost hurt to look at, and most certainly had to hurt to wear. Naruto frowned, and did his best to look grumpy. He was almost sure this was about his unexpected visitor.

"What?" he snarled, and Iruka sighed and shook his head.

"Sasuke's in the hospital. I was going to ask you if you wanted to see him, but- " 

"What!" the blond shrilled, shooting across the kitchen and latching onto Iruka;s shoulders, so hard that his knuckles turned white. "Sasuke's - Oh, no! Not now!"

He felt like he was going to cry. He'd been working so hard, but. . .but! He'd tried so hard, but Sasuke had just got worse and worse, hadn't he! That dumb bastard, he'd been trying to hide it too, but. . .  
But. What could he do about it? Even if he hadn't left Sasuke, what could he have done? He had no medicine, he had no idea what to do to treat something like that -

He hiccuped, and buried his face in Iruka's sweater, trying to stay his shaking shoulders, trying to stay his tears. He wasn't going to cry!

Iruka wrapped his arms about the shaking blond boy, unable to offer much more than that small gesture of 'I'm here.' He had only ever lost his father, and that was due to divorce, not death. He didn't know, yet, what it was to have someone you cared about lying on their deathbed. 

There had been Naruto's near incident, but somehow, he'd never imagined that Naruto was that sick, that Naruto would be taken from him. Oh, he worried, yes, and he was concerned, but somehow, the idea of Naruto being dead never really sunk in. Then, Naruto had come back to him, and it was all right. He didn't need to think about it anymore.

"I want to see him," Naruto sniffled, loudly, pressing himself harder into Iruka, as if trying to make himself disappear.

"I thought you would. Get your coat, and your shoes."

Iruka let go of the teenager, patting him on the shoulder, trying his best to be reassuring. He managed a piteous smile, which prompted Naruto to return his own, shaky smile. Iruka guided Naruto into the other room, and handed him the car keys. "Get ready and go warm up the car, okay?"

The blond nodded, and Iruka turned back, heading into the house to call Kakashi. He didn't want to take Konohamaru with him, and he had no idea how long Naruto might be. He didn't fancy leaving his nephew alone.

He felt bad for Naruto, he really did. There was so much pain and suffering the boy had endured in his young life already, emotionally, and Iruka didn't think that it could really be absolved at this point. The scarring was probably there forever.

Konohamaru glanced up from the television, and the blocks he was playing with as Iruka walked into the room. "Uncle?" he asked, his voice small in the room.

"Naruto and I are going to the hospital. Kakashi will be here in a few minutes, so you be good until he gets here, okay?" 

Konohamaru nodded and looked at the floor. "Is Naruto sick?" he asked, quietly.

Iruka managed a small smile. "No, Naruto's not sick."

"Are you sick?" Konohamaru asked, looking at him with worried eyes.  
Iruka's smile got a little wider, but also, a little shakier. "No, I'm not sick either. One of Naruto's friends is."

"Oh," Konohamaru said, then looked at his blocks. "Sasuke?"

The intuition of children amazed him every time he encountered it. Yes, they were innocents, and yes, they weren't very worldly, but they knew when something bad happened, and they weren't oblivious to adults' intentions and emotions. He heard the thrum of the car engine, and turned about. "I have to go now. Bye Konohamaru! Don't let anybody but Kakashi in!"

Iruka started back toward the door, with a little wave at his nephew. He opened the door, still trying to put his left foot in his shoe, when Naruto ran by him. He gave the blond a questioning look. Naruto grinned at him. "I forgot something," he said.

He kicked off his shoes and ran out of the kitchen, probably upstairs. Iruka shut the door, shivering because of the cold air and shook his head. Honestly, Naruto was the biggest idiot sometimes.

The blond boy returned a few moments later, holding a rather battered and worn teddy. He grinned widely at Iruka. "He won't like it, the bastard, but yanno."

Iruka sighed. "Honestly, Naruto. We could have bought something -"

Naruto shook his head, frowning. "Something new might look nice, Iruka, but this -" He indicated the scruffy bear. "This, has sentimental value. Mr. Teddy saw me through all my sick days when I was little."

He offered his caretaker a weaker smile. "This is something dear to me, and so. . .is Sasuke. They've both taken care of me, so. . ." 

The blond lost his train of thought then, and looked up at Iruka, smiling. "Okay! Let's go! We're wasting gas!"

The blond wonder shot out the door again, into the cold night, leaving Iruka to be bewildered, and then, to shake his head and follow.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The telephone was ringing, and Ino glared at it, as she tied her hair back and looked for her house keys. Nobody was home yet, and she didn't want them to be home yet. It was harder to lie to someone's face. When you spoke to someone, your voice could tremble, your face could reveal all you meant, and that you were lying to them. In a note, the words could express no insincerity.

The phone was still ringing, and she felt her resolve to let it ring until the other person should hangup weaken and collapse altogether. She grabbed the receiver and pressed it to her ear, muttering, "Hello?" as she scrawled some words to her parents across the page.

"Ino, I called to apologize." 

The blonde girl froze. Sakura's voice barely scraped her numbing hearing. Not now, why now! Why would the pink-haired girl call her now? She'd forgotten about Sakura, and she didn't want to remember.

"It wasn't me, or you who told. It was Lee." 

"So what?" Ino snapped.

She didn't care who had told. She just wanted Sakura to leave her alone. They were through now, with everything, so Sakura should just leave her alone. 

"You're still mad at me, then?" the pink-haired one's voice whimpered through the phone connection.

Ino found her eyes wandering to the kitchen clock. If she didn't hurry, she'd be late. "Goodbye Sakura," she huffed shortly, and hung up the phone.

It served Sakura right. She shouldn't have called her. They were over, and that was all that mattered. Right and wrong didn't matter, who had done what, or said what no longer mattered. All Ino cared was that she got out of the house, and nobody but herself knew where she was going then.

She hated to admit it, but Temari was increasingly like a drug addiction to her. Seeing the other girl seemed to be the only thing she looked forward to, being with the other girl seemed to be her only source of joy. She hadn't meant to get in this deep. She hadn't meant for it to go so far. She'd thought that, maybe, after a couple of times, she'd stop, feeling better, because she could still get someone. Sakura wasn't the only person who wanted her.

Where had it become so much more? Where had she lost that vengeful line of thinking and let it become purely for herself, that she was with Temari? She couldn't remember when it had changed over, or why she'd changed her thoughts to think like this.

It didn't matter now. She was going to see Temari, and that was all that mattered. She didn't care if her mother thought she was dating Shikamaru, as her notes always said she was going somewhere with him, or if her mother thought she was lying, or thought she was doing drugs or whatever else. She could think all she wanted, but as long as she didn't know. . .

Ino could have her guilty little pleasure, as long as nobody knew what she really did. As long as nobody knew about Temari, Ino could have her. Some people had food, or clothes, or shoes, or shopping as little pleasures that they enjoyed, but weren't really supposed to. Ino had Temari.  
- - - - - - - - - - - 

Hinata had almost forgotten Neji's intense dislike for both herself and Kiba. She couldn't really understand though, how he hated them both, for they were both so different. Kiba was loud and obnoxious, which Neji hated. Kiba was poor, and unrefined, which Neji hated.

But Hinata was the exact opposite of what Neji hated about Kiba, and yet, he still hated her. She was shy, and quiet, and rich, but Neji somehow still found a way to hate her.

It was uncomfortable, sitting in a room with such hatred, and Neji did nothing to try and stop it, as he sat there, his arms crossed, his eyes dull and unreadable. Hinata wanted to shy away from that gaze, to hide from it. Kiba was seemingly undisturbed by it, however, but his mood was sour and his normally loud demeanor had dropped into non-existence. He was disturbed by it, upset by it, though he didn't want to show it.

TenTen was trying to be the proverbial peacekeeper, but there was only so much she could do to try and break the thick tension in the room. Questions to Neji were answered with a "hn" or "hm, and questions to Kiba were utterly ignored, as he was engrossed in his staring contest with the older Hyuuga. Hinata only answered her shyly and softly, and neither of the boys paid them much mind.

Hinata very much wanted to talk to TenTen, and to ask her what had made her change her mind about the baby, but now was not the time or place. Neji would undoubtedly butt into the conversation and tell her that it was not her business nor her place to know. Hinata was also afraid of an all-out war between her cousin and her boyfriend - it seemed odd to think she had one - and so she kept a close, nervous eye on them, waiting, and hoping that the first blow would not come.

TenTen's soft, conversational tone eventually fell silent, and her river of questions dried up, and stopped flowing. The clock in the sitting room counted down the seconds, but it seemed to echo in the silent room. No one dared to breathe.

"So. . ."

TenTen folded her hands in her lap and her eyes darted from person to person, even as her words fell flat in the silence. Neji stood up rather abruptly, and turning about, saying rather bluntly, "I suppose one must just accept this."

Hinata lowered her head, as if in gratitude. Kiba sneered at the older boy's back, as if wondering why on earth they'd had to clear it by him first. Neji shut the door to the room as he left, never once looking back, although Hinata knew for sure that he had been looking at them.

She was grateful. Neji's words, though blunt and stiff, had pledged his (grudging) support to her, and Kiba's cause against her father. She knew she had a fight on her hands, a fight she perhaps was not quite ready for. She wanted Kiba, however, to be by her side, and the only way she could do so was to clear the match with her father. She knew he would object, but perhaps, Neji could sway him a bit more than she could. Neji had always been slightly closer to her father than she had ever, though he said he resented the man. She knew it was simply because her father was head of the main house, and therefore, head of the clan business. Hinata was heir to that, though she did not have the willpower or the smarts to do so, and Neji did. She sighed and looked down at the floor.

She heard the rustling of cloth, and then, TenTten was kneeled in front of her, smiling up at her with her bright, brown eyes. "If it helps any, Hinata, I think you and Kiba make a very cute couple."

Hinata blushed, and beside her, Kiba gave a startled, "Eh!" and went red. Hinata clasped her hands in front of her and smiled at the floor, keeping her head bowed. "Thank you, TenTen," she said, though it was more of a whisper than anything more.

"No problem," the older girl said, smiling.

TenTen left the room, leaving Hinata and Kiba to themselves. They were silent for a long, long time, but this time, the silence wasn't as tense.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 


	32. High and Low

(Author's Notes: Remember, if you're reading, please review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 32: High and Low

Naruto seemed restless, Iruka noticed, from the doorway where he stood. It wasn't unusual, as Naruto could never sit still, but it was out of place. The blond kept glancing at his watch, at the dark sky beyond the window, and then, back to Sasuke's face, but his eyes never lingered there long.

Sasuke was usually the only thing that could hold Naruto captive, both physically and mentally, but somehow, tonight, he just couldn't overcome Naruto's jumpy nature. Perhaps it was because he was unconscious, or perhaps it was because Naruto was worried about the state of Sasuke's health, but tonight, Sasuke failed to captivate Naruto.

That worried Iruka. What was on the blond's mind that could have him so stimulated, even with his favourite depressant planted right in front of him? What thoughts were weighing so heavily on Naruto's mind that he simply couldn't stop thinking about them? Was he thinking about many, many things at once, or just one thing that made him jumpy?

Iruka glanced at his own watch, noting the time, and how he should probably tear Naruto away from Sasuke's bedside, by force, though he doubted it would come to that, and relieve Kakashi of his babysitting duties. For the time being, however, he let his thoughts wander, as he looked at Naruto, who was now gazing intently at Sasuke's face, but with eyes unfocussed.

Iruka wondered, vaguely, why he had never bothered when he was younger to have serious relationships of his own. He ruled out the idea that the relationships in his life were too wild and unstable at that point, because Naruto's own social life was even more chaotic and depressing than his own at thirty-five. Naruto had never gone anywhere, except to school, and home, with Iruka, before he became something to Sasuke. Iruka knew, not from Naruto telling him, but from his own intuition, that this was not by choice, but by someone else's ruling.

Iruka was simply too straightlaced. At first, he had been well-liked, and invited to parties, and other social events that kids liked to hold, but he always turned them down, because he saw how Anko had turned out, and she was the wild child. She was the one who went to all these parties, and did all these things, not Iruka. Iruka stayed home and studied, so he could live a decent life. Now, he wished he had partied while he could.

He had never even considered going out with someone while he was young. He'd never considered having a relationship with someone besides his parents, or his stepparents, or his stepsister. He had been all too focussed on studying, on getting good grades, on getting into university and studying more, and then, finishing and getting a job, and buying a house, a car, and paying back his loans. There had been no time for people in his plans.

He remembered then, that after all that was settled and finished, he had time for people. But suddenly, people had no time for him. They were consumed by their jobs, consumed by other people already and Iruka found himself dreadfully alone and alienated.

He had taught at an elementary school, and his pupils were really the only people he saw, and then, maybe some other staff members, if he was lucky. He went home to an empty house, and he stayed there, in the night, wondering how and why he was alone like that.

He worked in a more 'conservative' part of Konoha for his first few years after university, and he lived in that part of town too. He was friendly enough, nice enough but the people in that part of town thought he was 'different', because he wasn't married, and he didn't have even a steady girlfriend. There were a couple of complaints about him to the school, and then, a few more, and then, one day, he supposed he looked at one of the boys in his class the wrong way and the child went home, and the next morning, his mother had been standing in the classroom, proclaiming she would not have her son taught by an openly gay man. He tried to convince her that he wasn't that way, and he tried to explain that it was a misunderstanding, but she would have none of it, and the boy was transferred into the other class. Quickly, others followed and the school asked him to resign. He did without question, and began scouring Konoha for another job. 

He came across the position he held now during the summertime, with his luck and all being what it was, and he took the job, took out a loan, sold his house in the other part of Konoha, and bought a new one, closer to the high school, in the older part of town. He had nothing to do for July, however, so he volunteered at the orphanage in the downtown core, not really worrying about money so much.

He had met Naruto there, and he loved the boundless energy the blond exuded. Naruto's attention span was short, so he was forever flitting from one activity to the next, but ever was a smile on his face.

He learned a lot about the children there. A lot of them had been living with their grandparents, who had died, or had lost relatives in car crashes and house fires, and some of them had even been taken from abusive homes by child services. The strangest case, however, was the case of Naruto, who's mother had brought him to the orphanage and just left him. Iruka knew from his studies of history, that leaving unwanted children had been a common thing in the past, but it wasn't so much anymore. Naruto had been abandoned by the human race, and suddenly, it dawned on Iruka that he never had really had Naruto's trust. Nobody did, and that was the way it was. It was in that instance that Iruka knew he wanted to take Naruto home.

He knew a little about Naruto's life before the blond had gone to the orphanage, from other orphanage workers. The blond boy's mother had been married once before she married Naruto's father, and she had three children from the previous marriage. Her first husband had been killed in a car crash, and then, she married her second husband, Nauto's father. Naruto's father had died, of something though Iruka didn't know what, and the mother had dropped Naruto off, taken her other three children and moved to Suna. Naruto could tell him almost all of that perfectly, if he wanted to, but somehow, he always forgot the three older siblings who'd lived with him before. He remembered his mother leaving, and his father dying, and before that, happiness.

Iruka sighed and looked at his watch again. It was getting rather late. He should go home. He wondered if Kakashi had put Konohamaru to bed. It was a school night, after all.

He looked at Naruto, who was looking at him, and had been doing so for a long while. Iruka nearly jumped. The blond looked forlornly at Sasuke, then said, "I'm ready to go."

He stood up, not bothering to give the unconscious boy any token of his being, and walked out of the room, right by Iruka, and waited a bit down the hall for him to come along and take him home. Iruka glanced at Sasuke, then turned about and meandered down the hall, letting Naruto walk in front of him all the way.

Naruto himself was still torn between his two options. Should he go or should he stay? If Sasuke died, then there really was nothing left in Konoha for him. But Sasuke wasn't dead yet, and by the time he did die, he'd have missed his chance. He wanted to go, to be free of Konoha, and he wanted to go with Gaara, to have some semblance of a brother.

But if he went, there was the chance that Sasuke would live, and wonder, what had happened and where Naruto had gone, without a word in the night. Sasuke might also die, and he'd never get to pay his proper respects to the boy.

Why couldn't Gaara just wait for him? Why couldn't they go when it was convenient for him? If he stayed now, he lost Gaara, and if he went now, he lost Sasuke. Gaara should have just waited for him, and then, he could see what was best for him. But it was convenient for Gaara now, and it might not be later. Gaara had made his choice, and now, Naruto had to choose.

The problem was he didn't want to choose. He wanted it all, at once. He wanted to go with Gaara, and have a brother, and live, away from Konoha, away from everyone and everything he'd ever known. He wanted to stay, and he wanted to be with friends, and his family, and with Sasuke. He wasn't sure which he wanted more. It was very difficult to decide. He was drawn both to the adventure of going with Gaara, and the stability of staying with Sasuke. It bothered him, this dual nature of his that seemed to spring up just in time to cause problems for him.

Iruka was concerned about him. He could tell. The way the man was walking slightly behind him, watching him, and the worry painted in his eyes told Naruto just how concerned he was. It wasn't Iruka's choice, however. Naruto had to make this decision by himself. He wanted to ask Iruka's advice, but he knew just what it would be. For Iruka, there was no competition between the options Naruto'd been given. Naruto would stay home, if not by choice, by force. The brunet was terribly over-protective in that way, and it bothered Naruto. Shouldn't he be gaining more and more freedom over his choices, not less and less because his options concerned more important subjects?   
There was no asking anyone for advice, even if he wanted it, and there was no choosing between going and staying, even if he wanted to. So, he kept his mouth shut and tried to weigh out the advantages and disadvantages of each situation; tried to make the scale unbalanced, but it would not tip either way. Every time he thought of an advantage for going, he found an advantage to staying.

He glanced at his watch again, noting the time, and now, he felt his heart pounding in his chest, and felt his mouth go dry with fear. He didn't have much time left. By the time Iruka got him back home, he would only have ten more minutes more to take Gaara up on his offer and go. Then, the chance to leave Konoha might be lost forever. He might not ever see Gaara again. He thought harder, faster, but all that did was muddle up his head and his feelings more.

He felt sick. He didn't want to make this choice.

They were in the car now. Iruka was asking him something, but he was far away, and a factor not to be considered anymore. He was something trying to detract Naruto from his decision. He looked at that distraction, desperate to be distracted, and said, "Huh?"

Iruka frowned and pressed his palm against Naruto's forehead as they stopped at a red light. Naruto blinked. He hadn't even known they were moving. "I asked you if you were all right. You're kind of pale."

Naruto shrugged his shoulders and looked at the light. Iruka bit his lip and looked away. The seconds ticked away and the light did not turn green, and Naruto wanted it to. His opportunity was slipping away, like grains of sand through the hourglass. He gnawed on his bottom lip until the light changed green and Iruka pulled through the intersection, smacking Naruto for chewing his lip like that.

They pulled into the driveway and Naruto was right - there were only ten minutes left in the window of time Gaara had given him. The hourglass was almost done sifting the sand. He shut his eyes and stuck his hand into one of his coat pockets. His fingers closed around something cold and metal, so he pulled it out, noting that it was a coin. He stared at it for a moment or two, and then, the door to the house slammed shut and Iruka was gone.

He stood there, looking at the coin, his breath rising into the cold air. With a look of determination, he nodded to himself and closed his eyes. He flipped the coin, grabbing it out of the air and slapping it down on the back of his hand. "Heads, I go, tails, I stay," he mumbled, and then, he was nervous to look. 

Taking a deep breath, he peeled his hand away and stared at the coin, balanced precariously on his hand. It was heads. He looked at his watch, and then, he stuffed the coin in his pocket and started to run.

It was heads, it was heads. He was going, he was going with Gaara, no matter how far he had to run, because the coin had told his fate. He'd never believed in stupid things like that before, but now, it was the easy way out. No more thinking. Just go with the side of the coin that came up and go, run and flow with it. But as he ran, some part of him was hoping he'd slip and fall, that he'd tire out and that he wouldn't make it. Part of him didn't want to go.

Maybe the coin couldn't decide for him after all.

His feet didn't falter, though and he just kept going, toward the station, almost instinctively. Somehow, it would have come down to this anyway. Part of him, though, the part of him that wanted to trip up, and fall, told him that he should have been running in the other direction, to the hospital, to Sasuke.

That part of him tried to tell him to stop, to turn around and run the other way, but the other half of him kept him moving, kept his feet going. He didn't bother checking his watch. It would only slow him down, and he was already running out of time.

He skidded into the station, not bothering with a ticket, because he still wasn't decided. He ran out onto the platform, only to see Gaara standing there, waiting for him, his arms crossed and a frown crossing his face. "So you came," the redhead said, and then, noticed the lack of luggage Naruto had on him.

"You're not going?"

He eyed Naruto cynically, and feeling nervous and bare under that gaze, Naruto put up his walls and shrugged. The entire world felt as if it were going around, and a spinning world was all too much for Naruto right then. "There's something I want to know," he panted, although it was a lie.

Gaara glanced at the train, then looked back at Naruto, looking dubious. "Ask away," he said, his voice dull and monotone, despite the underlying threat in his words. 

"What happened to your father?"

He'd thought he'd remembered, sometime while he was sitting there in the hospital, beside Sasuke. He thought he remembered being at home, a small child, with three other children in the house, two blonds and a redhead. He thought he remembered that, and now, he thought he remembered that those were his siblings, his half-sister and his two half-brothers.

Gaara frowned, just a bit and his eyes, if anything, became icier and more distant. Naruto got the distinct feeling he'd hit a nerve. The redhead shifted, narrowing his eyes, deliberating his answer to that question. He wasn't really sure if he wanted to tell Naruto what he knew had gone on between their mother and their fathers.

"My father died in a car crash," Gaara said finally, looking Naruto straight in the eye.  
Naruto nodded slowly, but Gaara continued.

"Mother married your father just two weeks after that happened. I was a month old at that point."

Naruto stared. Gaara bit his lip thoughtfully, then said, "Temari has always thought that Father's death was a set-up, to get him out of the way. You were probably conceived the week before your father married Mother."

Naruto gaped, like a fish out of water. It was the only thing he could do. He would have never thought. . .

Gaara's voice forced him to stop thinking, forced him to listen to his half-brother. "Your father died of AIDS, Naruto. He was gay -" Gaara was snarling now, his face contorted in an angry sneer - "They went through all of that, and he was fucking gay. That's why Mother left you like she did. You were a reminder of all the danger she put herself in to have my father killed, and then, a reminder of how it all fell through, of how it was all worth nothing in the end."

Gaara turned about abruptly and walked away. "I have to go," he said, nonchalantly, as if nothing had happened, as if they'd had a nice friendly chat about the weather.

"Wait!" Naruto hollered, and grabbed a hold of the redhead's hand, only to be shrugged off. 

"I'm leaving. It doesn't matter why I did it," Gaara snarled, and then, he was on the train, and then, the train was pulling of the station and leaving Naruto behind.

Gaara was gone, leaving behind him a legacy of confusion.

Naruto trudged home, somehow weighted by the new knowledge. It was clear to him now that Temari, Kaknkuro and Gaara all had hated his father, for what he had caused, for what he had done to their mother. They hated Naruto too, the blond thought and mused, because he was a symbol of all that, because he bore such resemblance to his father.

But, they also seemed to hate gays, maybe for that same reason. But why had Gaara kissed him, when he'd been there, when their mother had been dying? Why had Gaara invited him to come along, when he was two things Gaara hated? Maybe. . .

He didn't know. The snow on the ground was ugly, and dirty, and so was everything in Konoha right then. This was the way it had started. Everyone hated him, though he didn't know why, and he could never figure out why they hated him so. It was back to that now, with even the walls of the very houses seemingly repulsed by his presence. The hatred was back, pressing in on him like it had when he was smaller, and it was all because of those few words Gaara had said to him.

It had never really stopped, he knew, but when he'd been with Sasuke, he hadn't cared so much, because not all the world hated him. Now, however, Sasuke was gone and the world hated him again; he could feel the hatred again, as close as if it were his own blood relative.

He didn't say anything to Iruka, or Kakashi or Konohamaru when he got home. In fact, he said nothing at all, and he curled up in bed to sleep, and slept even less. The hate consumed him, and took away all of his humanity.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Orochimaru was well enough, though still in the hospital. Itachi didn't need to worry about the imbecile anymore, and he was grateful that he didn't have to, for when he worried, it was with every sinew in his body and he remained a wound spring of worry for days, even after the danger had passed.

Orochimaru wasn't sick, so he hadn't stayed long there, but it was still long after dinner time when he came home. Gran had taken her medication and was sleeping on the sofa, and Kurenai was absorbed in some sort of television program. He slid in so quietly, they never noticed that he was home.

He took off his shoes, and he went upstairs. He had felt guilty doing this while he should have still been worried, but now that Orochimaru's condition was assured, he felt fine doing it. He felt fine relaxing, he felt fine having a bit of fun. He practically threw the small brown paper bag on the bed and shut the door behind him, locking it.

Over the past few days, he'd come to the conclusion he rather didn't like Kabuto. He knew rather well that the silver-haired boy had been Orochimaru's path of revenge against his own adulterous actions. He'd read it in Kabuto's face. He also knew the older boy was jealous of him, probably for having Orochimaru as his own.

Kabuto also annoyed him, simply because he himself knew that Kabuto knew the potency of the drug that he'd given Itachi, and he'd had the gall to comment on how much the younger male was taking. Kabuto had mixed it, made it for people to become addicted to, and he had commented on Itachi's growing addiction.

Perhaps he was wary of what Orochimaru would do if Itachi ever managed to overdose?

Itachi really didn't care what Kabuto thought. He was making a pretty penny selling the damn stuff to him, so why should he complain? It wasn't in his best interests if Itachi stopped, and it certainly didn't seem to be in Itachi's best interests to stop either. At the moment, he could feel the tension running from his neck to his lower back, like a cable waiting to be snapped.

He still didn't know what it was that Kabuto was giving him. Kabuto wouldn't tell him, probably for fear that he'd find another, cheaper dealer, or try to mix his own if it was indeed just herbs. Or maybe he'd just stop altogether if he found out what it was. Maybe it was that dangerous. Maybe it was something he'd learned about, once, in those classes they'd had in elementary school that had taught them how drugs were bad and evil.

He moved to sit on the bed, listening as the springs squeaked under him, and then, he listened to the crinkling of the brown paper bag as he unrolled it and took out his supplies. Kabuto has started liquefying the stuff for him, so that he could inject it. It was far more intoxicating, and it took less to get high with. It was almost more instant than taking it orally, because in a second, in the blink of an eye, it was in his veins, in his system. His body had to absorb it first the other way.

He rolled up his sleeve, looking at the track marks on his left forearm. He'd been careful so far, and none of them were infected. He sterilized all the needles Kabuto gave him before he used them, and then, he only used them on himself. Still, he didn't think that would be enough to prevent him from getting something, if Kabuto ever gave him an unsterile needle.

He didn't care though. At least, he didn't care right at that point in time. His body was craving the drug, so that he could almost taste the high. His eyes felt terse and dry, and his entire being was tense, coiled, and ready to spring. 

He hated putting the needle into his arm. He'd always hated that. It made him feel sick, the way the cold metal bit into his flesh, into his very veins. He always imagined that he could feel the veins collapsing, but even that wasn't enough to stop him.

He closed his eyes, letting the needle hover over the vein he'd picked as his victim and he pushed it in, gritting his teeth as it went in, and then, letting his jaw drop and his mouth fall open in a silent 'thank you', to the needle or to some god, he was never quite sure, as the needle left his flesh.

He let the needle drop from his nerveless grip and he flopped backwards onto the bed, the high starting already, and his mind drifting away from him. The cable of tension had snapped, and he was calm now, complete and rested. 

He spent what was left of the evening, and well into the night, in limbo between consciousness and sleep, and he was suspended in time. The world around him had stopped, and it was all alright. Until about midnight, of course.

He started coming down a bit before that, and then, he wasn't tired, and he was cranky. He didn't want to be back in the real world. He wanted to go back to his high, and he wanted to go back to sleep and rest, just rest forever.

He tried for about twenty minutes to go to sleep, tossing and turning, until he couldn't bear it anymore, and then, he sat up and found the needle, which had rolled under his bed. He took another shot, forced himself back to his high, and he went to sleep.

He slept peacefully for a short while, and then, came the nightmare. It was the worst nightmare he'd ever had, not that he'd had one since he was very, very small, so small he could barely remember now.

He didn't remember much when he woke up, but he did remember that it had been red and horrific and he had been screaming, and screaming, but no one could hear him. He remembered drowning in blood, and then, it had been black, and then it had been too hot and he felt as if he was on fire.

The only reason he'd woken up was that he'd fallen out of bed. He was wrapped up in a wad of sheets so tight that he couldn't feel his feet, and it only loosed when he tried to wriggle his toes. His breathing was erratic and he was sweating. He felt sick and he wanted to curl up and die. He got up, and he crawled to the bathroom, across the hall, not daring to stand up. He groped about in the darkness, not venturing to turn the light on, and he threw up.

He managed to keep himself from falling into his pile of sick, and propped himself on his elbows, gasping and wheezing, and choking down bile. He felt terrible. He was shaking and sweating by turns now, and he wanted to crawl back to bed and curl up.

So, he did. It took him a tremendous amount of energy to haul himself back to bed, and he wrapped himself up tightly in his sheets and shuddered and shivered and tried valiantly to go back to sleep.

He coughed and he wheezed, and tried to calm his breathing down, but his body would not be calmed. He felt more sick, more terrible than he had ever felt in his entire life. He curled up in the fetal position and he swore he could hear the thumping of his heart in his ears.

The night wore on, and he did not sleep. He lay, tangled in the blankets, nursing a headache and a sore, tired body, when dawn broke over the world and he wanted nothing more than for the world to be plunged back into darkness. The sunlight, however weak right now, hurt his eyes for it signalled the coming of the day and the beginning of new things everywhere. He curled up more, and shut his eyes tightly, but somehow, that wasn't as dark as the night had been and it was making his headache worse.

Dawn wouldn't let go of the world however, and it grasped and clawed its way over the horizon, slowly, agonizingly and when at last the sun broke free of the horizon, it had such brilliance that Itachi had to drag himself from bed and shut the blinds, with his eyes closed. His head throbbed in response to the strong light.

He went and he lay down, with his back to the window, and he hid his face under the blankets, under the pillow, but still, it was not dark enough for him. The sun was taking over the realm of the night, and he felt much like a vampire, hissing and spitting and cursing the light.

He was roused by a knock on the door, and a curse from Gran, and he suddenly remembered that during his tormented night, he'd been sick on the bathroom floor. The knocking got louder and his head was bothered, so he hid and whined, but it was not to be stopped.  
He answered his door and his aunt stared at him, startled and scared, though he did not know why. In retrospect, he knew he probably looked horrible, with his hair straggling across his too pale face, and dark rings around his eyes making him look like a raccoon. Kurenai studied him for a second or two, then said, "You're sick."

He felt it was the most obvious statement in the world. He looked sick, he felt sick, he was sick and she had gotten him up to tell him something he already knew. He wanted to hit her, he wanted to scream at her, but it was too much effort. She nodded lightly, as if she understood why he felt so rotten, and for a second, he was afraid she did, and he felt his heart trip unevenly in fear. She nodded and patted him on the shoulder, with vague instructions to go back to bed, because she'd take care of everything.

He did, because he didn't want to clean up, didn't feel like cleaning up, couldn't clean up without collapsing or being sick again. He went back to his uncomfortable bed and curled up. She didn't know. She had muttered something about being worried, and how he'd probably gotten the flu from being at the hospital for so long.

He felt a shudder of relief, but his heart didn't seem to slow down and he was a little bit scared. He spotted the needle on the ground and he stared at it, debating on whether or not to answer its siren call. It would relax him, make him feel better and it would slow his heart. It would make everything else go away and he would be okay again.

Then again, it was the needle's fault he was in this mess. It was the drug's absence that made him feel this way, and he was addicted, well and truly now. He needed the damn stuff to feel any good at all.

He wanted it, he needed it, but at the same time, he didn't want it. He just wanted everything to go away. He shut his eyes, because his eyelids were heavy. He felt sleep trying to creep up on him, but his erratic heartbeat would not let it come. 

He dozed eventually, and then, he remembered Orochimaru, and school, and Sasuke and he woke up. He felt a bit better, but when he went to move, he was nauseous and dizzy. He curled up and slept some more, and then, when he woke up, he felt even better, but the headache plagued him and so did the nausea and the aches and pains. Nevertheless, he got up and noted the time, and he decided he should go and visit Orochimaru, and maybe Sasuke while he was there. He happened to glance down and he noticed his sleeves were still rolled up and the track marks, some of them faint and fading, and others bold and red, and one covered with blood, were revealed to the naked eye. He pulled the sleeve down quickly and wondered how Kurenai had not noticed this.

Maybe she had chosen not to notice that the heir to the entire Uchiha family was covered in track marks, obviously from some choice drug, and was therefore probably an addict and unfit to rule. Why she did not point that out was beyond him, and why she chose to ignore it was beyond him. Had she pointed it out, he would have been deemed unfit to be the next head clansman and she, more than likely, would have come to power.  
Perhaps Kurenai wasn't as power-bent as the rest of the family he'd known was. Perhaps she was the only one, a real black sheep in the family who actually understood and harboured humanity in herself. It scared him, a bit, to think that she might be the only one in a family as big as his. Maybe he was wrong? But judging from himself, and Sasuke, and what he remembered of the others, he doubted that he was wrong. She was the only one who was humane.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

The day had started out very bright and sunny, but by the time school let out, it was cloudy and threatening snow. Similarly, Sakura's day had gone about the same way.

She had woke up, with the idea of explaining to Ino what she had heard from Lee, never mind that Ino hadn't cared last night on the phone. However, her hopes were quickly dashed when she saw Ino and waved, and the blonde girl just turned her head and walked away, her nose stuck up in the air.

Lee had tried, rather sloppily, to make amends with her, to "clear up" her "confusion", although what she was confused about she wasn't sure. She had understood what he'd said all too well and now, she was going to do something about it. She was already sour from the way Ino had treated her, and so, she was sour to Lee. 

The single worst thing she saw, however, was at the very end of the day, when she was walking out to the parking lot, intent on cutting across that way and going straight home. There would be no accidental meetings with people tonight. The human race held no delight for her any more.

She met Ino along the way, and she said nothing to her, confused. Ino did not live in the same direction as she did, and Ino did not drive. Why was Ino in a parking lot, going toward Sakura's house? It made no sense to Sakura, nor anyone else who saw it, until they saw the girl get out of the black car. 

She was a blonde girl, older than both Sakura and Ino, and her eyes were a deep cobalt blue that shocked and made Sakura fidget nervously when they fell on her. The girl waved at Ino, and the other blonde girl hurried over to the car, and got in. The pigtailed driver got in the car and shut her door. The engine roared and they drove off, heading in the direction of the opposite side of town.

Sakura now had something to mull over. She plodded home, staring at the ground, frowning at it, and wondering who that girl had been. She was no relation to Ino, that was for sure, for Ino had no aunts and uncles, and subsequently, no cousins. Maybe she was a friend, but she wasn't a friend that Sakura had met, so she must have been a more recent friend. A friend made in the last two weeks or so, Sakura guessed.

The more she thought about this new 'friend', the more she disliked her. The more she disliked her, the more she thought that maybe this friend wasn't simply a friend. Maybe this new friend was a friend with benefits, or maybe, she was a replacement for Sakura, someone Ino hooked up with to show Sakura that she didn't need her.

Sakura ran to her door, and she let herself in, flung off her shoes and ran upstairs, before her mother could say anything at all. She locked herself in her room, not crying, not angry, but thinking, and confused. She thought all night, but she could only come up with one logical conclusion. It was that conclusion that scared her the most.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hinata's day at school had been very awkward. Kiba had gone out of his way to be near her at all times, and Neji had made a point of making sure that the Inuzuka boy was with her, and her alone. It bothered her and she wished TenTen had been there for some sort of moral support.

She liked TenTen. The girl was honest, but not brutally honest the way some girls were, or catty like other girls. TenTen was just nice. There was nothing more to explain about her. She seemed to understand Hinata, or at least, her situation to a degree, though she never drew conclusions or comparisons between them.

Now, she was sitting in front of her father, her hands clasped tightly in Kiba's much larger hands, and she could feel the perspiration making her own hands clammy and cold. The older man was looking at them, impassively, as if they were as unimportant as ants. 

Across from her, beside her father, sat Neji, and beside him, TenTen, who smiled, encouragingly, but it was faint and gone in the blink of an eye. Hinata schooled her face, making sure she did not return that small smile. Silence was the order of the day, and Hinata wondered when someone would speak, and she wondered who the first to speak would be. She hoped it wouldn't be Kiba, because if he spoke first, it was all over.

She had the sinking feeling that this was just the beginning; the beginning of a long, hard road.

- - - - - - - - - -

Ino was glad Sakura had seen her. The pink-haired bother had been at her all day, spouting some jargon about going to get back at Lee. She didn't care anymore. Lee might have said something, but did it really matter? It was a lie now that she and Sakura weren't an item.

Temari's eyes were fixed on the road, when Ino looked over at her, and the younger blonde smiled broadly to herself. Here, all that mattered was that she was with Temari. The older girl somehow gave Ino something she had never had before - sensitivity. Ino had always found that she needed to be brash and bold, but with Temari, she didn't have to be, because Temari could fill those shoes when they needed to be worn. Temari also wielded the authority to make them both take those shoes off and just be themselves.

Ino found it a thrill and joy to have Temari dominate her, because she had always been the one doing the dominating.

It was nice not to have to think for once, it was nice to have someone tell her what she needed to do and simply do it. There was no planning, no thinking. There was simply action, and Ino liked that action.

Temari was speeding now, she noticed, and she was frowning. Her face was worried and almost angry. Ino frowned herself. Rather suddenly, the other girl threw on her signal and pulled over to the side of the road. She put the car in park, and turned off the engine. She turned to look at Ino, slowly, hesitantly. Ino frowned and kept looking at her. "What are you doing?" she asked finally, making her question angry.

Temari sighed, as if she were beaten, as if she'd just fought a long, hard fight. "Ino, there's something I should tell you."

Ino froze, knowing what those words meant.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Lee arrived home rather late, after having walked very slowly from school. He hadn't had the best of days. He didn't want to show a glum face to his grandmother though, and so, he slapped on the most realistic face he could. He went into his house, listening to the cold silence and his sunny disposition almost faltered.

He nearly sighed in relief when he saw his grandmother right where he had left her, in her rocking chair, her hands preoccupied with her knitting. He felt almost sorry for her, for she could barely hold the needles any longer, and she was constantly going back and taking out what she'd done and starting over again.

The old woman was terribly frail, with bad arthritis in her wrists and knees, and number of other problems, not the least of which was cancer. She had survived it now, she was past it now, but there was always the fear it would come back, and take her. It had almost had her last time. He listened to the unsteady clack-clack of her knitting needles, and he felt that she lived in uncertainty like that. Chemotherapy had left her bald, weak and frail.

Some days, when he watched her move with such pain, where every breath caused her pain of some sort, he thought she might be better off if she had given up. It was a sort of pity he couldn't help, even when she had told him that nothing was equal to death. To her, death was the ultimate bad in the world, and everything else must be good, or at least, better than death.

She had taught him to have hope, and faith in miracles, and to do his best no matter what. She taught him that he should always see the good in something, and he should never take a day for granted. He should live each day to its fullest. That was her philosophy.

So, he took her advice and today, he tried to see some good in Sakura, but he couldn't. He tried to see some good in being kind to her, in being shot down like he had, but he couldn't. He could see no good in the day except that he and the people he cared about were still alive. Still, he supposed that was something to be grateful for.

As he stood at the doorframe and watched the old lady, with her head bald, when it should have been full of gray curls, as she knitted and went back a stitch, and then, another two, because the problem was deeper than that, he supposed that really was something to be grateful for.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Itachi stumbled into Orochimaru's hospital room, and found Orochimaru having a nap. He flopped down in the chair he'd left by the bedside, that no one had seen fit to remove, and he tried to make the dizziness and the nausea that had overtaken him on his way there recede. It would not. 

Orochimaru was practically dead to the world, and Itachi, if he had felt well enough, would have rolled his eyes. It figured. He felt like crap and he walked all the way there, only to find that Orochimaru was completely out of it.

He sat there, and he waited for Orochimaru to wake up. The longer it took him to wake up, the more Itachi worried. The more he worried, the more tense he became and the more tense he became, the more he was calling out for his drug. It was like an arch that the keystone had been taken out of. Everything collapsed after that.

Finally, growing restless, he got up and he marched down to Sasuke's room, only to find Sasuke in much a similar state as Orochimaru. His brother looked worse though, with his face still pale and gaunt even in sleep, and his hair straggling across his face from a rough night. The knot of tension and worry grew when Itachi reached out to brush the bangs back off of Sasuke's forehead, and felt the burning flesh underneath his palm.

He got up, and he left. He couldn't take these people. They were sick, they were dying and they were making him sick, sick with worry and he wanted to be sick. He wanted to go home and forget that they were dying, and he wanted to just forget. He felt trapped, in this endless cycle of high and low. 

High. . .and low. High . . .and low. It was annoying. He was high and well, and then, he was low and he needed to be high again because everything came back and swallowed him when he was low, drowned him in the tide waters that came rushing in. He hated being low. He wanted to be high.

As soon as he got home, then, then he'd be high again. He didn't care if it meant another night like the one he'd just weathered. All that mattered was that he was going to be high. Sasuke and Orochimaru were going to go away, fade into blackness, and so was the painful knot in his back, and there was just going to be him when he got home. He, and he alone.  
It was blissful to even think about, and he thought he might have even been able to get high from just the thought of being high. But no, his body cried out for the drug and he needed it. How had he sunk so low? It didn't matter. Just a few more steps, and he'd be home, and then, he'd be high again.

Kurenai stopped him though, because she was standing in the doorway, helping Gran hobble down out of the house, and he wanted to scream. He couldn't be high now, not until they were gone.

Kurenai smiled sweetly at him, and he wanted to tear her apart. He wanted to be high again. He hated being low. The knot of tension seemed to grow. "How is he?" Kurenai's voice asked him through the melee of his mind.

"Sleeping," he mumbled back, his reply stunted by the need to be high that was consuming him.

She nodded and then, she returned to helping the old woman hobble down the stairs. He bolted. He bolted into the house, and he fumbled for a moment, with his shoes, and then, he shot up the stairs, stumbling and scrambling up again and he ran until he was safe in the sanctuary of his bedroom, with the door shut and locked behind him. It didn't matter that the room was empty. It didn't matter that the room beside him was unoccupied.

He was high again.

- - - - - - - - - - -


	33. Breaking

(Author's Notes: Remember, if you're reading, please review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 33: Breaking

Temari looked at Ino, and she felt her confidence, her faith in the ideal that she must be honest with Ino slip away. From the look on Ino's face, she knew that this was going to be a blow, something that would either break them, or at least, force them to work very hard to stay bound tightly together.

Temari bit her tongue. She now didn't want to say what she had bound herself to saying. She had been so sure that the truth would be the way, the right way. She had felt the burden of lying, even though Ino never hinted, and Ino never knew, but Temari always knew, in the back of her mind, that there was a stain on this pure white fabric, and it was very black indeed. She needed to wash it out, and her words, her honesty would lift the stain, or wreck the fabric altogether.

But now, she could see Ino, and she could see that she did not want to tell Ino, and the other girl did not want to be told, no matter what it might be. But Temari had brought the topic up, and peaked her curiosity, and now, she had to say it. Ino would not accept, "Never mind," as the logical conclusion to the conversation Temari had willingly started. 

It was now or never, and this would test the bond between them. Maybe this would bond them tighter together; maybe this would tear them apart, but for now, all she could do was try to wash out that stain and see what it would do.

"I've lied to you," the older girl said slowly, her words barely audible over the sound of traffic all around them. She whispered, because she did not want Ino to hear.

But Ino heard. "You. . .lied?" she asked softly, and then, more dangerously, as if she did not understand and she was suddenly unsure, suddenly on the defence. "About what?" she demanded, her voice aggressive and commanding.

Temari felt almost bullied, almost threatened, and it took her a moment to remember that she was in control of the situation. She was not sweet little Sakura, about to be goaded into submission by Ino's bullying.

"It wasn't Lee who told everyone about you two," she said, feeling a smirk, an arrogant smirk take to her features and stick to them.

Ino looked confused for a moment, before realization began to dawn across her features, and Temari saw the look of shocked realization in her eyes. The older girl felt almost smug. She had hurt Ino, and shocked her, rocked her to her core now, and it felt good. She felt like some sort of backstabbing, cheating vixen, the kind that the movies always portrayed with such reverence.

"I told. I told about you and Sakura. I told, so that she'd be gone and I could have you."

There. She'd said it now and there was no turning back. She watched confusion, hurt and anger play on Ino's features, each struggling to win her over, but she could choose no victor, until finally, anger stomped the other two and she screamed, "You bitch! What the hell!" 

Temari said nothing, just triumphantly smirking, as if she'd had this entire thing planned for a long while. Ino gave her a half-hearted death glare, and then, looked out the window, away from the older blonde, at the passing cars.

There was a long, drawn out silence, broken only by the sound of the cars rushing past. Temari drummed her fingers on the steering wheel for a few moments, and quickly, lost interest and looked at Ino. "Are you going to run back to Sakura now?"

She could have gone on, but Ino's silence somehow warned her to be quiet, and to let the younger girl think. It took quite a while before Ino replied, and when she did, her voice was very soft.

"No," she murmured, as though her lips were numb. "No, I'm not."

Temari ploughed on. "You're going to stay with me, then?" she asked, and her voice held a tone of curiosity, but also, a note of danger, as if Ino gave her the wrong answer, then Ino might not get out of the car alive. 

Blue eyes met blue eyes, the sky met the ocean and Ino stared at Temari point blank for a few seconds. "Yes," she said finally. "Yes, I am."

Temari smiled and nodded, then put the car into shift and drove off, merging back into traffic and continuing on toward her home. She felt a thousand times lighter, and terribly less guilty, and she knew now, that the stain had been bleached and was gone forever. Ino would stay with her, and not go back to Sakura. It was all settled.

Over the sound of the car, of the wind all around them, she heard Ino say, "I don't forgive you, though." 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Somewhere, sometime while he was gone, Itachi's physical body had rolled off his bed and onto the floor. He'd come back to himself now, and he could feel the bruises on his back, on his arms and the backs of his legs. It was strange though, for he hadn't felt anything when he'd actually fallen off the bed. Maybe he'd take a bit too much.

Maybe he'd just had a bad trip altogether, because throughout the entire thing, he'd been falling, going from high to low, and somehow, he never seemed to hit the bottom. He was suspended in the air, in time and he never touched the ground, never felt bottom.

How had he told that he was truly falling then? Maybe he was going up, and not down, or maybe he was going left to right or right to left, but he would have never been able to tell because of the disorientation. And somewhere, while he was out there, he began to think, and he wondered if he was crazy, or maybe, maybe he'd simply lost his mind. But then, wasn't that the same thing, and no, he couldn't have lost his mind because he was thinking and he needed that to think, and he simply must have lost his body. But how did you lose your body, and what happened if you never came back to it, if that was what you lost, or anything else you lost? What happened to you? Did you stay, forever suspended in this realm of eternal falling where falling wasn't really falling because you weren't going anywhere, you simply felt like it? Did your body rot, and did you eventually fade away into this abyss? What was anything anymore and he knew nothing, he knew nothing and then -

Standing over Sasuke's bed, when he'd gotten sick, just after their parents died, and gods, he'd been scared then, because it was too soon, simply too soon for Sasuke to go. The boy was young, and stupid, yes, but it was too soon for him to die. It was stupid, because he hated his little brother, and he didn't care if he was all alone, because he'd always been alone anyways, but somehow. . .

The little squirt had his endearing qualities.

Somewhere along the endless string of memories and thoughts, he got scared, and he was scared, really scared, for the first time in his life and he came back to himself after what seemed like forever, and then, he was hurting and lying on his bedroom floor.

He got up, very slowly, because the bruises were bad, indicating that he'd hit the floor like a deadweight, and he tried to see if he had landed on anything that might have hurt him more than it should have. He'd just it the floor. That was all. Maybe the drug made him bruise more easily?

He crawled into bed, low, sick and miserable. He cuddled into the cold sheets, feeling stupid, like a small child. He slept, fitfully and uneasily, and in the morning, it showed. He sat and he fidgeted all through breakfast, and he ate little, his veins itching more for the drug than food.

He went to school, and he couldn't pay attention; he couldn't focus. The teacher droned on, and he tuned him out, and zoned back in, and drifted in mind and spirit beyond the plane of reality, lost in himself, in his own thoughts. The words on the page were a blur, and the teacher called him on fidgeting, which he could say nothing to, for when he looked down, he could see that his thumbs were idly twiddling and he had probably been moving more than that before in such a case.

School seemed to drag on and on, and the longer it went, the more he wanted, the more he craved his drug, his release. He hated this waiting. He hated waiting and wanting, because he didn't know how much longer he would last. He would look at the clock and say to himself, "Just a little bit longer, just a little bit longer; then you can go and get it."

He really wasn't sure what had driven him to such lengths. He wanted to say it was the fact that he'd been so emotionally tormented, in his younger years, that he couldn't possibly turn down the chance to forget about the trauma. He wanted to say that it was everything in his life right then and right there, but he couldn't and he wanted to say that it was just his personality, or maybe it was a combination of all three, but he couldn't decide on what it was, or why it was this way. All he knew was that it was.

School ended, at long last, to his relief, but his ordeal was not over yet, because he wanted to see Orochimaru, wanted to not feel the guilt he knew he would feel if he didn't go to see the other boy while he was down and out. He wanted to see Sasuke too, to make sure the boy hadn't given up in the torturous night, and he had to make sure that he was still breathing, still living.

He hauled himself up to Orochimaru's room first, not surprised to find nobody there. Orochimaru and himself were isolated, and they liked to be isolated, and alone. It benefited them, it made them happy and they could be apart, and together, or together and apart. It made no difference, when they were alone. 

But no, it was just him, for Orochimaru's eyes were closed, indicating his silence, his death to the world and Itachi was alone, separated from the one voice that he let inside his own isolation. He felt like he needed to sit down, but he didn't, because then he would dwell on things, and he needed not to think about how he couldn't remember just the exact shade of Orochimaru's eyes.

He went to see Sasuke, instead, not surprised at all to find Sasuke in a similar state, with his eyes closed, but at least this corpse moved. Sasuke moved in his sleep, agitated by his fever-induced dreams and Itachi wondered what his little brother would dream about as he sat down, in the chair that somebody had left beside the bedside.

The hospital was oh-so white, and he hated how the doctors, the nurses, in their white pristine uniforms looked like saints, and judged him, and saw all that he did wrong, saw all the black painted upon him. He hated the lights pouring down on him, making him feel put upon, as if he was in the spotlight, in their eye and they always knew, and they always did.

He'd only been sitting there for a few minutes, but to him, it felt like much longer than that, and then, Naruto had joined him in the room, looking somewhat ashamed and lost. He did not notice Itachi, and Itachi did not know how he could not notice him, but somehow, Naruto managed it.

The blond boy had always been oblivious like that.

Itachi didn't like Naruto. He was too loud, too busy and too vibrant, the perfect antithesis to everything that Sasuke was, and he knew, he knew in the back of his head, that the two boys were too different to ever hold each other together, without frustrating and tormenting each other to no end.  
He had never liked Naruto. He remembered, vaguely, the blond joining Sasuke's class when his brother was eight, when he himself had been thirteen. He remembered Sasuke's dislike of Naruto - the blond's bragging and boasting, and then, his utter failure at everything and anything, put Sasuke off.

Sasuke had been put off humanity at that point though, and somehow, Naruto took this to new levels and sparked indignation and disgust in Sasuke, feelings that had been absent in the little boy since their parents died. Sasuke had hated everybody the same way before, and treated everyone alike, as if they were indifferent, but that was untrue. He'd suddenly discovered that he hated Naruto more.

He had always kept a keen eye on his little brother, watching him struggle everything out, just as Itachi had, though with some more obvious problems. Sasuke had no guidance, and he had not the marks that Itachi did to make schoolwork a distant drag.

Sixth grade had started Sasuke's internal hell, and all the confusion had built up until the boy attempted suicide, unhappy with the way things seemed to be going wrong. They'd doped him up for a while after that, calling him 'depressed' and 'unstable', but Sasuke had been, truly, more unhappy on those drugs than even after their parents had died. It almost scared Itachi, that the boy could smile so - the drugs made him - but say such unhappy things.

It was a stupid thing. It really was. Sasuke had tried something he shouldn't have, and he had been experimenting with the girls, feeling the pressure to be one of the crowd, and never, ever wanting to be left out like Naruto. Of course, they'd always invite him, even after, and even if he turned them down coldly, even after, they still invited him. Naruto tried too hard to be part of the crowd, and Sasuke didn't even have to try to fit it. It must have seemed frustrating, from Naruto's point of view.

It took a long, long time for Sasuke to get off the drugs, and then, the doctors were all over him, trying to make sure he didn't try it again. After all, Sasuke was part of an important, but missing family. Sasuke had resolved the problem within himself, and any hope that the girls had ever had of being with him was slowly burned away, because Sasuke just did not want them.

But back to Naruto. The boy was pacing about now, his eyes darting and he looked at Sasuke with such fever that Itachi was almost felt that the blond would jump the unconscious boy while he slept.

Naruto finally happened to notice him and they stared at each other for a moment or two, before Naruto, forgoing all formality, said, "You look like hell."

"Thanks," Itachi muttered, giving Naruto a rather dark look.

That was another reason he had never liked Naruto. The kid was just too blunt for his own good, and he always spoke his mind, for good or for bad. "Has he woke up?" he asked, looking in Sasuke's direction, and then, forgetting that Itachi was there at all.  
"No," Itachi said, knowing that Naruto wasn't really paying attention to him at all now.

The blond stood terribly still for a few moments, and from Itachi's perspective, it almost looked like he had stopped breathing altogether. Then, in an almost violent movement, Naruto turned to face him, saying softly, "Could you leave us alone?"

His face was so pained, and so vulnerable that Itachi didn't know what to say. He rose from the chair without a word, looking at Naruto all the while, warily, as if to make sure he was genuine. He didn't know if he was, or whether or not this was an act.

But what did he care. He was free now; he'd been dismissed, and he could go home. He could go home and. . .and go from low to high, and last night didn't matter now because it was a new day and he needed it. His mind called softly for it now, told him he needed it and that voice grew in volume with every passing second. So, he went home, and he went from low to high, and then back again in a matter of hours. But it didn't matter then; he was free.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Naruto sat there, in the hospital room, just looking at Sasuke and wondering if he'd made the right choice. It was hard to say, and he couldn't be sure until Sasuke woke up that he'd made the right choice by not going with Gaara.

Oh, of course, Sasuke was pretty enough to look at, even in his comatose state and Naruto was quite content to leave him like that, but then, it was more a case of having a piece of artwork or a trophy if Sasuke stayed comatose, and Naruto wanted a partner, a person he could talk to and touch, and be made real to through the physical world.

He reached out and touched the side of Sasuke's face, and the boy emitted a soft sigh, and he let his fingers rest there, stroking and petting, soft skin under them, and to him, Sasuke had never been more real, more there, than in that moment. He could reach out and touch him - he was not a memory, or a stranger, but Sasuke, and he was truly. . .there. Real.

He had wanted to go with Gaara, He really had. Part of him wanted to get out of Konoha, and go with Gaara, learn more about the outside world, and more about Gaara, more about his family, more about his half-brother; more about himself. 

He wondered why Gaara had extended that offer to him, if he hated him so. It made very little sense to him, because if you truly hated someone, you did not invite them somewhere with you. Then again, that was what Naruto had been taught, and he did not know Gaara all that well. Gaara had raped Sasuke, and that, clearly, showed some difference in their thinking.

Still, he had wanted to go with Gaara and now, he found himself thinking things that seemed, not only to himself, disturbing. He wanted to scream at himself for even thinking about it. He thought about how intense Gaara had been, how strikingly cool, and then, how angry he'd been last night, and he wanted to. . .

He wanted Gaara in ways that he shouldn't have, but it was not because it was Gaara. He did not like Gaara's fiery red hair - it reminded him of blood. He did not like Gaara's green eyes - they reminded him of envy, of jealousy. He liked Gaara because of how he resembled Sasuke, in attitude, in demeanor. Cold and confident and utterly an electrifying mystery, waiting to be unravelled and explored. He could have been missing Sasuke, and the way they'd been before all of this had happened.

But! He did not like boys, not as a genre, not exclusively. He was not gay, like Gaara had said his father had been, and it wasn't every boy, it wasn't every cute boy that he wanted, like some girls were, and it was just one, that made him feel. . . 

Just this one, and he looked down at Sasuke's sleeping face, the pale skin, made paler by all the white that surrounded him. The only antithesis, the only answer to all the white was the dark raven of Sasuke's locks, and somehow, the lights managed to wash that out too.

Just this one. This was the only boy he liked; the only boy he could ever stand. Iruka was not a boy; he was a man, and so was Kakashi. Konohamaru was a child, and Sasuke. . .

Sasuke was something else entirely. He was something so fantastic that everybody wanted one, but there was only one, so the person who got him was both lucky and cursed. Cursed to live with all that jealousy, just mere inches away from crushing you under the intensity of it, and then, lucky for having such a rare and wonderful thing.

Naruto didn't think that Sasuke quite comprehended how wonderful he was, how lucky Naruto was to have him. Oh yes, Sasuke was terribly bright, smarter than most of the people Naruto knew, but there was no way he was brilliant in matters of the heart.

Sasuke was a bit. ..retarded, in that respect. He knew nothing of what it was to be in love, to want love and why he needed it. He shut it off, tried to be completely independent and hurt himself in the process. He tried to kill anything that lived inside him, tried to be an empty shell. 

Naruto's being an empty shell for so much of his life had not been of his own making, but others'. They had called him enough names, said enough about him and hurt him enough that everything inside broke down and rotted under their dreadful words and then, he was gone and lost to humanity. He was like a puppet when that had happened.

But Sasuke. . .Sasuke! He made his heart beat again and the world seemed a brighter and sunnier place, although Sasuke was not a creature of the daylight. Sasuke was bitter and sour, like a lemon, but to Naruto, he was sweeter than sugar, and smoother than honey, better than chocolate and ice cream and fresh strawberries with whipped cream.

He was even better than ramen, and that was saying something, especially when it came from Naruto. Sasuke was something purely indescribable, something that was both tasteless and tasteful at the same time. He tasted like glacier water, something raw and untouched by the world, something truly pure, and at the same time, he tasted like something more, maybe a hint of lime, or lemon, or orange. Something citrus, something with tang, something with zip and it was just that subtle hint that made Naruto crave to taste him more.

He leaned in and he could feel Sasuke's shallow breath, brushing softly against his cheek, like the spring breeze that had sprung up outside, just a few hours before. He closed his eyes and brushed his lips gently across Sasuke's, loving the smooth softness of them, the silken slide of them against his own.

When he pulled back, he opened his eyes, very, very slowly, as if he was trying to remember a dream, and found himself staring into deep black pools, that were somewhat reminiscent of an abyss, or the sky on a starry night.

"Sasuke," he breathed, and the older boy looked at him, as if he was confused.

"Naruto?" he murmured, and before Naruto could pull fully away, Sasuke had placed his frail, weak hands on either side of his face.

Black eyes studied him intensely. "Oh," he murmured. "It is you."

They smiled gently, if a little bit shyly, and Naruto leaned forward to brush their noses together, closing his eyes happily. His Sasuke was awake. That was good. Now, he could tell if he'd made the right choice; now he could forget all about Gaara.

"How long have I been out?" Sasuke asked, moving slowly, then sitting up gingerly, wincing a bit as if he was sore.

Naruto shrugged. "Not too long," he said, reached out to placed his hand on Sasuke's cheek. 

"How long?" the dark-haired boy growled, wanting an answer that obviously gave him something more accurate than "long" or not "long."

"Two days," Naruto murmured with a shrug. It wasn't long by his measure, but knowing Sasuke, who was such a workaholic, it was probably forever.

"Two days?" Sasuke mumbled softly. "I suppose. . .that's not long at all," he relented with a sigh, and looked at Naruto.

The blond smiled at him, then suddenly, flung his arms about the older boy's neck, and hugged him as tight as he could. "I was so worried about you!" he near-shouted. "Don't you ever get sick again, you asshole!"

"Asshole?" Sasuke muttered darkly, eyeing Naruto angrily. "Like it was my fault. And please stop shouting, dunce."  
"Hmph!" Naruto huffed and sat back, frowning and crossing his arms. "Dunce?"

Sasuke smirked, just a bit, feeling still too weak to have a full-blown argument with Naruto, but well enough to antagonize the blond. It was so easy to do. All he had to do was act superior, and he did that very well. He'd made the rest of society feel inferior to him for the past seven years. 

Naruto grinned, seeing that smirk, and closed his eyes in that strange, slanted way he had, and gave Sasuke a playful punch in the arm. "You -" he started but stopped, when Sasuke winced and clutched at his arm.

"Ow," the older boy said, gritting his teeth to stop himself from whimpering, like a baby. "That hurt, you jerk."

"Sorry," Naruto mumbled, having completely forgotten that Sasuke wasn't well. "You're feeling better?" he asked, almost innocently.

"I was," Sasuke grumbled. "Until you punched me."

"Sorry," Naruto said again, then slowly, took the arm in question out of Sasuke's grip and examined it. It was already starting to bruise, becoming a dark blue colour. He scratched the back of his head slowly. "Erm, sorry. I guess I hit you harder than I thought."

Sasuke retracted his arm, rubbing the bruised area slowly, self-consciously. He frowned and looked at the spreading abrasion. "Don't worry about it," he said, not really paying much attention to Naruto now. 

They were silent for a few minutes, and then, Sasuke spied the shabby old teddy bear Naruto had left on the bedside stand. He made a bit of a face. "What's that?" he asked.

"What?" Naruto asked, as clueless as ever, and looked at the table, then coloured up instantly. "Oh, um, that. . ."

Sasuke glanced between the worn old toy and Naruto, waiting patiently for his explanation. When it came to Naruto, he could wait for a long time. 

The blond, still blushing, shrugged a little bit. "I . . .erm. . .brought I. I had it when. . .I was little and. . .I thought maybe. . .you might need some . .er. . .support."

"I'd rather have you for support," Sasuke grunted, unamused by Naruto's sentimentality. He was deeply touched, but he was damned if he'd show it, and even more damned if he'd gush or squeal like a girl. 

"I meant. . .when I wasn't here. When I couldn't be here."  
Naruto was a terrible shade of pink and Sasuke felt almost cruel for making him blush so much. He sighed, and inwardly, he smiled. He was touched that Naruto would give him something so dear to him. "Thank you anyway," he murmured, trying to sound and look as grudging as he could.

"You're welcome," Naruto said softly, then tossed the torn teddy to Sasuke, who rolled his eyes, caught it and cuddled it, all the while, glaring at Naruto while the blond 'awwww'ed.

"You're so cute," Naruto said, the smile on his face so clear in his voice and he planted a kiss in the middle of Sasuke's forehead.

The dark-haired boy didn't even blink, but just kept glaring like there was no tomorrow. Naruto grinned cheekily. "Can I have that back if you're quite done with it?" he asked.

"Yeah, whatever," Sasuke muttered and tossed the bear at Naruto, purposely missing and hitting the blond in the head with it.

- - - - - - - - - - -

The last couple of weeks, in Shikamaru's opinion had been quite boring. Even the sky was nothing special to see, as the clouds flocked all together and blotted out the sky with their bland grey. He couldn't find any special shapes in them when they were just one massive blob like that.

School was tiring, his social life, which was practically non-existent, was tiring and basically, he felt as if he'd have been better off not getting out of bed that morning. Of course, he was still on talking terms with Ino - they could never be mad at each other, because Ino needed someone to gossip to, and Shikamaru found it too troublesome to be mad - so he was practically caught up in everybody's life but his own.

He was walking beside Akimichi Choji, toward their next class. They were silent, as good friends knew how to be, except for reasons other than they were good friends. It wasn't that they weren't good friends, but simply because Choji was stuffing his face and Shikamaru found it too troublesome to bother talking.

Choji whined suddenly, and looked at the empty bag of chips, turning it upside down and his face crinkling up in worry. "Aw," he whimpered. "They're all gone."

Shikamaru glanced at him lazily. "Don't you find worrying about that troublesome?" he asked, quite exasperated. He was tired of being bored, though most things bored him. What he wouldn't give for a decent game. . .

He almost wanted something to happen, something exciting, but then again, that would be entirely too troublesome. No, it was better off for him, for everyone around him if things just stayed simple, stayed dull and boring. Stayed routine. Even routine was troublesome, so something out of routine would be incredibly troublesome.

He and Choji walked into class, just as the bell rang. They sat down, they opened their books and the teacher began to teach, a dull, boring math lesson. The sky outside stayed dull, stayed boring and threatened rain.

The math was entirely too easy for Shikamaru, but he was just too lazy to bother with it and so as it typically befitted him, he went to sleep and ignored the teacher, ignored the math. Everything was so troublesome.

Outside, it started to rain. Shikamaru slept through it.

It was better if the sky just stayed grey.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Bang, bang, bang!

All in a row like that, like shots, came the noise, and Itachi wondered what was making such a racket, as his temples pulsed and his headache raged behind his eyes. It was then that the door swung open and in stormed Orochimaru.

The door slammed shut behind him.

They looked at each other, Itachi confused and Orochimaru fuming. "I called you!" he cried, at long last, fury evident in his voice.

Itachi just looked confused. "What?" he murmured, unable to summon his voice, his emotion.

Orochimaru huffed. "I called you, half an hour ago. I told you to come and get me. They let me out of the hospital."

"Oh," Itachi mumbled, then found a string on the sleeve of his shirt and proceeded to be fascinated by it. "I don't remember that."

Orochimaru's eyes narrowed, almost dangerously, and he looked at Itachi, angrily, worriedly. There was something completely off here, and this was not Itachi-like behaviour at all. "Are you mad at me?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

He sat down on the bed beside the younger boy, watching him curiously. "Mad about what?" Itachi asked, finally losing interest in the string and turning over to look at Orochimaru. He intertwined his fingers in Orochimaru's hair almost immediately.

"What is wrong with you?" the older boy growled, leaning over Itachi, looking at the glazed, confused look in the other boy's eyes.  
He stared for a moment or two longer, and then slowly, remembered, vaguely, a time when Itachi had looked like that before. He was lucky he could remember anything at all, he supposed. "You're high," he said at last, finding the only true statement he could make about Itachi's condition. 

"Yeah. . ," the Uchiha boy drawled, enthralled with trying to braid Orochimaru's hair from the end up. Unfortunately, that wasn't working so well, and he was getting frustrated. 

Orochimaru sighed and wondered what had been going on exactly while he was in the hospital. Trust Itachi to find a new way to get in trouble. "Okay, time to sleep," he murmured, and Itachi gave him a rather cynical look, for being so baked.

He ignored it and dragged the covers over Itachi, noting the chaotic state of disarray in Itachi's normally pristine room. With Itachi somewhat safe in bed, he set about the room and trying to find whatever the Uchiha boy had hidden in the mess.

- - - - - - - - -

Iruka felt bad about leaving Konohamaru at home by himself, but Naruto would be home very shortly, with Uchiha Sasuke in tow. Sasuke had practically leaped at the chance to go to Naruto's house, rather than his own, as he'd heard Orochimaru and Itachi had a major fight and he predicted that they'd still be making up. He'd gone, even though Kurenai and the old lady had bickered with him to no end, insisting that he come home, but to no avail. Sasuke was not to be swayed.

Iruka felt kind of guilty, saddling Naruto with both Konohamaru, who was hyperactive, and with Sasuke, who was sick, and evidently needed some TLC. But this could not wait.

He was at Kakashi's, trapped in the tiny apartment, but it was cozy and it was comfortable. He wasn't quite sure when this had become official, but both he and Kakashi had felt some sort of reason to celebrate their being together, no matter how informal and unofficial between them it was.

They'd shared a bottle of wine between them, and they'd settled in to watch a movie, but neither one of them was really paying all that much attention to it. Kakashi was making idle chatter with him, and he was responding, albeit slowly, but that was because he was thinking very hard.

"Kakashi," he said at long last, forgetting all about the silver-haired man's earlier question. It had been something stupid about the weather, no doubt, so he could ignore it.

"Hm?" Kakashi said, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

"I'm just. . .wondering. . .how you feel about me?"  
Kakashi looked confused. "Isn't it rather obvious, 'ruka?"

Iruka blushed a little bit at the pet name, and winced a bit. "W-well," he stuttered. "I wish it was. But what I see isn't always what it is, so if you could just. . ."

Kakashi silenced him, kissing him softly, but firmly. "Not another word," he whispered. "I love you very much, and don't you ever doubt it."

There was an awful, awkward silence that followed that statement, and Iruka mulled it over for some time, trying to read Kakashi's face, his eyes, but nothing would come. Kakashi was a closed book to him. He sighed; he'd just have to trust what Kakashi told him for now.

He settled back against the couch, settling in to watch the remainder of the movie. It turned out to be a very bad movie, though Kakashi seemed to think it was hilarious in its atrociousness, and he ranted and raved about it for hours after it was over.

All in all, for a celebration, it was a very dull night, and Iruka almost wanted to be somewhere else, though he really couldn't think of another place he'd rather be than right where he was - in Kakashi's arms.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

TenTen sighed and glanced sideways at Neji, wondering if he was still awake. It was well after midnight, and she was terribly sure she and he both should be asleep, but she was almost positive that neither of them were.

In TenTen's case, it was because she was terribly uncomfortable. She wasn't sure why she had suddenly become so intensely uncomfortable in her own skin, or when it had happened, but she was tired of her body. She didn't want to be in it anymore.

Glancing sheepishly at Neji again, she confirmed that he was not asleep. He merely had his eyes closed. "Neji?" she asked timidly, hoping she really was right in her assumption.

"What?" he replied, as monotone as ever, yet annoyed all the same. She must have disturbed him.

She turned away, wondering what he'd been thinking about when she'd spoken. Neji liked things to be silent, and she hated to interrupt his thinking, because he always became slightly, and then, increasingly irate when that happened.

"Did you have something to say?" he asked, his voice holding a pin drop more anger in the pool.

"Erm," she started, a little bit of a blush creeping to her features in embarrassment. She'd nearly forgotten that she'd said anything to him at all.  
Neji's patient silence held a silent question: "well?"

"I was wondering if you could rub my feet?" she blurted, completely forgoing the other line of questioning she'd been going to bring up, concerning Hinata and Kiba.

Neji gave a sigh, obviously annoyed, and she sat up, looking at him and murmured, "Please?" 

"Fine," he grumbled, obviously not liking the task she'd offered him.

It was his own fault, and the least he could do, she supposed, since he was the one that had gotten them into this mess. And then, no, it wasn't just Neji, but it was both of them, and they were in this together.

They had done this together, they had fumbled together, and now, they had to serve the punishment to the crime they'd both committed, both of them, together. And settling back into the sheets, smiling, TenTen was quite sure that was how it should be.

That was how it was, and that was how it should be.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -


	34. Slow Dance

(Author's Note: Hey, please remember to review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 34: Slow Dance

Spring was in the air, at long last. Naruto felt it had been too long that they'd been drowned in winter. Now, the snow was melting, creating puddles about his feet, and the wind blew softer against his cheeks. He swore he could smell the springtime air, the scent of things beginning to grow.

It was warmer out too, which was a welcomed relief. Naruto had ditched his jacket, and was wearing a simple t-shirt, leaving his arms open to the wind. Iruka had an argument with him about it, but he'd simply run off when the brunet man wasn't looking, because it was too nice a day to stand about and argue. It was too nice a day to have anything unpleasant happen. 

Naruto met Sasuke at his door, and the dark-haired boy simply glared at him, as if in jealously, for the younger Uchiha had been forced to bundle into his winter coat, his mittens and his hat, by his great-grandmother who was awfully lethal with that cane of hers. The weather was warm, and he was sweating already, but she had insisted that someone who had just got out of the hospital should not go frolicking outside in nothing but a short-sleeved shirt and his shorts.

The blond blinked stupidly at him. "What's with the coat?" he asked. "We're not in Antarctica."

"Tell that to Gran," he retorted, still glaring at Naruto. How dare the boy mock him so!

Naruto shrugged, and jammed his hands into his pockets. "So, where do you want to go? I've got. . ."

He pulled out a handful of change, and counted it. "Six dollars and seventy-five cents."

Sasuke rolled his eyes. "What on earth are you going to get for that?" he asked, his voice mocking. 

The blond shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe ice cream. Or coffee." 

Sasuke shuddered at the mention of ice cream. Though it might have been spring like weather outside, it was still far too cold for ice cream in his opinion. "The ice cream shop isn't open yet, dork," he growled, pulling out his own wallet and counting the bills there.

"Show-off," Naruto muttered, eyeing his boyfriend's wallet.

". . .I have three hundred and forty-four dollars, and sixty-seven cents," Sasuke informed Naruto, remaining oblivious to the slack-jawed look the figure had compelled the blond boy to give him. "Where do you want to go and what do you want to do?"

Naruto crossed his arms and sulked. "That's not fair," he grumbled.

He was kind of jealous of Sasuke for having that kind of money, but it wasn't his jealously of Sasuke's wealth - the other teen had paid quite a dear price to have his family fortune in his hands - that was making him sulk. He had wanted to buy Sasuke something, but as it turned out, Sasuke could buy whatever he wanted, really. To buy anything of value, Naruto would probably have to get a part-time job six different locations, and give up ramen, and save his allowance for at least six weeks. Sasuke could have bought any item in that time frame without blinking an eye. It made Naruto feel kind of . . .useless.

Sasuke looked up at him, snapping shut his wallet and shutting it. He shoved it into his back pocket, almost angrily. "Valentine's," he muttered, almost violently, and Naruto gave him a blank stare. 

Sasuke went a furious red colour, and said, "Valentine's Day was last week. We didn't get each other anything. What do you want?"

Naruto snorted. If there was one thing he'd never believed in, it was that mushy-gushy crap of Valentine's. He thought that getting the people you loved presents on a set date, simply because of that date marked on the calendar, was dumb. A birthday was all right, but anniversaries, and other things like that, he tended to ignore. He remembered last year, he'd saved his allowance for what had seemed like forever, and he'd managed to save enough money to buy Iruka a bottle of cologne that the brunet wanted, but would never buy, because he felt buying Naruto the things he wanted was more important. He remembered giving it to Iruka, who had looked at him dubiously, and said, "What's the occasion?" 

He had replied that there had been no occasion, and there wasn't; it was just a random gesture of his appreciation of all that Iruka did for him, on a random day on the calendar that would have otherwise had no significance in their lives. Naruto thought that while it might have been nice to receive gifts, it would be nicer to receive them for no apparent reason.

"Forget it, Sasuke. Valentine's is dumb," the blond grumbled, turning away, jamming his hands deeper into his pockets, letting his shoulders sag. 

The dark-haired boy frowned, and said nothing. He wasn't about argue with Naruto over Valentine's Day. He personally thought the holiday was completely stupid, and he hated it. It had always been just another excuse for his fan club to make a fuss over him, and every now and then, bury him knee-deep in sappy poems, love letters, and those cheesy valentine cards that had always made him want to hunt down their writers and burn them.

He turned away from Naruto and stuffed his own hands into his pockets, frowning. He felt obligated to get Naruto something; after all, it was the only holiday that celebrated stupidity in his personal opinion. Naruto, being the epitome of dumb, certainly deserved something then. But then again, what was a lost trinket between the two of them? He could have bought something, though, something substantially more than a stupid little knick-knack, even though he knew Naruto would appreciate anything and everything.

"Oy," the blond said at last, breaking the sulky silence that had fallen between them. "Let's get going, eh? Day's a'wasting."

Sasuke turned about to face Naruto, and they started to walk. They walked, side-by-side, but they didn't talk. They walked downtown, and Naruto suggested catching the bus to the other side of town, but Sasuke simply shrugged, not really knowing of anything that was all that interesting over that way.

Naruto suggested a movie. Sasuke said there was nothing playing. Naruto suggested a coffee. Sasuke said he didn't drink coffee. They argued like that, and they were quickly getting frustrated with each other, as they couldn't decide what to do. Sasuke was thinking he should give up and go home. He had tons of homework to catch up on anyway.

Naruto stopped suddenly and squealed in pure delight. "Look! A pet shop!" he practically screeched and latched onto Sasuke's arm, pointing. 

Sasuke rolled his eyes. "I don't want to go in there," he muttered. "I hate animals. They make me sneeze."

"You're allergic to everything," the blond grumbled, then looked pleadingly at him. "Please Sasuke? Iruka won't let me have a pet. I just wanna look."

"Fine," the older boy muttered, and looked away from Naruto, hating the fact that the blond's puppy dog eyes always melted him.

They crossed the street, uncaring of the traffic around them, and wandered into the shop, the bell on the door tinkering and signalling their arrival. Sasuke held a tissue at the ready. Naruto clasped his hands to his chest eagerly. There were birds, and kittens and puppies - the typical fare - and there were more exotic pets, like expensive tropical fish, and rare lizards. Naruto made his way about the store, his eyes big and glassy, plastering his face to every tank and staring idiotically. Sasuke blushed, and decided that if anybody asked, he didn't know the blond.

"Look! Sasuke!" Naruto chirped, and the older boy grit his teeth and turned about.

"What?"

"Isn't he adorable?" Naruto asked, holding a little shih-tzu puppy up beside his head. The little dog had its tongue lolling out of its mouth, and its tail was wagging like there was no tomorrow. 

"Whatever," the older teen muttered, and turned about, pretending to eye the fish in the tank he was standing next to. 

Naruto put the puppy down, letting it run wild, and wandered over to join Sasuke, who was far too intent on the fish for his own good. "Oh, hey!" the blond said, pointing at the fish, which eyed him warily. "Iruka has some of those. We put them in the pond out back in the summertime. They're. . .uh. . ."

"Koi," Sasuke supplied in a dead monotone.

Naruto pushed his finger against the glass of the tank. "Hey! That one looks like you!" 

Sasuke arched an eyebrow and looked at Naruto. "Really?" he asked dubiously.

"Yeah!" the blond said, nodding. "It does. I mean, look at it. It's all pouty, and sulky, and it's ignoring the other fish, with that, 'holier than thou' attitude." 

"Naruto," Sasuke said in exasperation. "The other fish are beating it up."

"Well, it's just because he thinks he's better than them," Naruto huffed.

Sasuke frowned, and rolled his eyes, looking back into the tank. "Well, if that one looks like me, that one looks like you," he grumbled, pointing at another fish.

Naruto blinked. "Uh? Which one?"

"The big, stupid orange one," Sasuke replied with a smirk.

"Hey!" 

Naruto punched Sasuke in the arm, before they fell silent, watching the fish swim around in circles. As it turned out, the big orange fish started chasing the other fish that had been attacking the black one Naruto had pointed to earlier. Naruto cooed. "Aw, isn't that sweet. They like each other."

Sasuke gagged. Just then, a little bell rang, and the shopkeeper came up from the back. "Hello there boys," she said, with a small smile. "Anything I can help you with today?"

Sasuke shook his head, and Naruto ignored her, watching the fish swim round and round. The shopkeep walked over, her hands in the pockets of her apron. "Ah, the koi fish. They're gonna be popular in the next few months. Spring's coming, and people like to put them in ponds."

"We have a pond," Naruto said, almost lethargically.

The lady gave him an odd look, then smiled at him. "Well, let me know if you need anything. I'll be at the front of the shop."  
She walked off, leaving Naruto to stare at the fish. Sasuke sulked and tugged on the boy's arm. "Come on, Naruto. Let's get out of here," he grumbled.

"I want those fish," the blond said.

"Oh, good grief," Sasuke muttered. "No."

Naruto turned about. "Please Sasuke? Please? I won't ask you for anything else."

Sasuke sighed heavily. "No. Iruka will kill you. And me. And besides. Then we have to go straight home. Where would you put them?"

"In the tank. It's upstairs, in the spare bedroom. Iruka won't care; he likes koi fish. Only kind of pet he can stand."

"Naruto, no."

"Please? Come on, please? I'll put in my change," the blond whined, latching onto Sasuke's arm.

"I hate you," the older boy muttered, sighing in defeat, and heading for the counter.

Ten minutes later, they left the store, each with a plastic bag full of water and fish nestled in their arms. "I really hate you," Sasuke muttered, glaring in Naruto's direction.

Naruto smiled happily. "I love you too," he replied.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Shikamaru glanced at Ino, wondering why the girl had been so distant as of late. They used to be best friends, but somehow, somewhere, they had drifted apart. Not that he cared anyway. Ino was far too troublesome.

Still, when Ino said 'talk', she usually meant 'talk', not 'sit together in companionable silence', as they were doing then and there. It bothered him, although he may not have wanted to admit it. Ino was thinking about something, deeply, and that almost scared him. She hadn't said a word to him since they'd walked to this place together.

They were sitting on the swings at the park, avoiding the park benches, which were dripping with the melted snow, and ice. The swings were at least a tad drier. The endless blue sky vaulted over them, and occasionally, Shikamaru would tip his head back and watch the clouds drift by, in no hurry to go anywhere. The clouds had it so easy. They didn't have to think, or feel. They had no decisions to make, and no destination to go to very quickly. They simply went where the wind told them to. If he were to die, and if he was bothered to believe in such a thing as reincarnation, he would like to live his next life as a cloud. It might have turned out short, as clouds changed and weathered, then died in the course of a day or two, but he didn't doubt that it would be better than living many, many days as a complicated human being. He liked things to be simple.

Ino was being anything but simple right now. Girls were complex, and puzzle that he could have pieced together if he had the patience for such things, but he didn't and found that puzzles were too troublesome for him. He'd rather watch the clouds roll by, and wish he was one of them.

He looked at the blonde girl next to him, growing nervous with her continuing silence. She was counting the pebbles under the swings. "Shikamaru," she said at last, and he jerked his vision downwards, almost falling off the swing in the process.

"What?" he asked, holding back a bored sigh. Something was obviously up here; he just wished she'd hurry up and tell him, instead of playing this silence game girls were so fond of. 

"You're smart," she replied, her eyes on the ground again, as if she was thinking. "What's it like to be in love? How do you know?"

He stared at her for a moment. It was unprecedented, it was unheard of, it was ludicrous! Yamanaka Ino, the extraordinary flirt, was asking him, bonafide loser, for love advice? He snorted, and looked at the sky. "I don't know. It's too troublesome," he muttered.

If she was just going to be dumb and play games with him, she had better leave. He didn't like important things, let alone little trivial things like her games. She smiled and scuffed the gravel with her shoe. "I thought you'd say that," she mumbled, a sad sort of smile gracing her lips.

It shocked him, to see her vulnerable. She was not someone who liked to be caught with her guard down. Ino was brash, bold and brazen. She was not afraid, and she was strong, not weak. He'd never seen her like this before. He hoped it didn't mean anything. He didn't want it to; it was simply too troublesome to dig through this action, find the meaning, and then, be crushed and wrong. He sighed.

"Ino, you know I suck at things like this. You should be asking someone else," he grumbled, hoping that would scare her off.

"Who else is there?" she asked, and in a second, she turned her eyes on him, and he really didn't know what to say.

"Tell me that," she begged. "Tell me who else I can talk to. Nobody else knows me like this. You won't make fun of me. You won't tell anybody else that I'm not who I pretend to be. It's just too troublesome for you."

She finished with a smirk, and he smirked back, shaking his head. "You're terrible," he muttered, closing his eyes, yet feeling a little bit of a blush and a self-satisfied smirk rise to his features.

So what if he wasn't like Uchiha? So what if the girls didn't bother with him, and made fun of his attitude? They were all too troublesome anyway. He'd seen the lengths Uchiha went to in order to ensure that his fan club stayed at least seventy-four and a half feet away from him at all times. He didn't want that.

But someone thought he was smart, and someone was glad of his attitude, besides himself. He guessed that, just as no two clouds were exactly the same, it took all kinds of people, different people, to make the world the way it was.

"Ino, I don't know, or care about these things. You'd be much better off asking someone else."

The blonde girl said nothing for a moment or two, and the wind was the only sound that whispered between them. "You're right," she said at last. "You're not the person I should be talking to. Thanks anyway."

She rose from the swing, and walked away, her head down, watching her feet as they crossed the snow, and the dead grass that the melt had left open to the air. Shikamaru watched her go, pondering that she didn't even manage to say goodbye, but in the end, he ignored it, and looked up, watching the clouds as they rolled by.

- - - - - - - - - -

Temari. Odd name, even odder person. The girl acted so cool and mature, and yet, could be so childish, like a spoiled princess. She had been raised in hardship, and lived in it still, but she wanted all the finer things in life; wanted the life of the rich and the famous for herself. But she had no way to get it: no connections, no education, no money, no talent. 

Still, that was what she aspired to, but she worked as a waitress, serving complaining customers for six dollars an hour, plus tips that were few and far between. Her hands were rough and callous, and the skin was often wrinkled due to long hours spent immersed in dirty dish water, and she couldn't afford to buy a new pair of shoes, so her feet were always sore. Her uniform was dirty, because she couldn't afford to get that coffee stain steam cleaned out. 

She lived in a rundown little apartment, with her brothers, and all their furniture was old, and the electricity and hot water was naught. Their lamps were always dim, and their water always ice. The heater barely worked, and there was no air conditioning. They could barely afford the rent, let alone groceries and those extras, like those new shoes she wanted.

She had a car, an old rust bucket she could barely afford to put gas in now, but she couldn't afford the insurance on it, so it went, without insurance, and she wondered what would happen if it was ever stolen. She supposed she'd be out a car, but not much more.

Her brother, Kankuro was an up-and-coming puppeteer for the now-extinct breed of theatre called Bunraku. It heeded little fame, and paid less, and Temari was sorely tempted at times, to tell him to shut up and get a real job. Still, it was a little extra, which meant they could afford a little more at the grocery store, or she could put some more gas in her car. His jobs were few and far between though, mostly children's shows, which he hated, for Bunraku was far more noble than that, or so he felt. She thought he was crazy.

Gaara, her other brother, was gone now, and she wasn't sure if that was a relief, or a plight. Gaara had been idle, a useless pair of hands, but he could have got a job, could have brought home more money, put more bread on the table, or put some more gas in her car. Maybe then she could have got those new shoes. But he was gone now, and she was fairly sure he wasn't coming back.

She worked seven days a week, and she didn't have many street clothes, because she came home and changed out of her uniform, into her pyjamas and went to bed. She didn't go out. She couldn't afford to. She hated her routine, and it was depressing that her life was such a case-and-point of human society. What was life, really, when all you did was work, eat, and sleep? 

The bright point in her life was playing with people's minds. It was something she did well, and had she the money, or the education, or the money to get an education, Kankuro had suggested to her on occasion that she would have made a great psychiatrist. She barely believed him.

Right then, and right there, she was playing with the mind of a girl called Yamanaka Ino. Ino was a blonde, pretty girl, with a brash, bold attitude that Temari couldn't help but like, because of its resemblance to her own brazen attitude. Ino, however, like so many others, hung on her every word, and it made her confident, made her feel like she had some sort of power to control her.

She liked to pretend. One moment she was the good girl, whom Ino couldn't help but love, and the next, she was a vixen, that seduced the poor girl, and blinded her, and in all but a minute's time, she was the wicked witch of the west, who had wronged Ino so many times before. But which feeling was the truest; which person was the real Temari? Ino couldn't choose and she wanted to believe so badly that it was that person she had first met, or even the second personality, but she was almost sure that it was that third person, the third person she dreaded and wanted to banish away.

Temari loved to see the confusion play on the blonde girl's face, and she loved to see her try to sort out all the confusing feelings that were inside her. It felt good, and it made Temari feel powerful, knowing she was the cause of this conflict, knowing she was the only one who could sway the way it went. She was the only one who could resolve this conflict. In the end, she would decide which of her personas won out.

Temari's life was dull, and dreary, and she wished that it was brighter, and she wished she was not so strapped into the routine that she was. But she could still play. She didn't need money, and she didn't need friends to play with the minds of others. Emotions were something free, emotions were something she could feed on when there was no real food to keep her going.  
And she loved it.

- - - - - - - - - - 

Orochimaru had been watching Itachi. What he saw hadn't pleased him, but he had yet to come across any hard evidence that would prove his suspicions about his boyfriend's new hobby. He hated to see another life, more promising than his would ever be, go that way, and drown in the tidal wave of addiction and dirty needles. 

He'd have to kill Kabuto if Itachi went that way. Once in a while, he did not care if Itachi took something to loosen up. Once in a while, it would do Itachi good. Right now, it was harmful; right now, it was killing him.

He'd seen the needles littered about the floor, spilling from the empty brown paper bags, which smelled of the powder, and their creases told him that they'd been sitting full of it. He hated it. Itachi never let him see him inject it though, and he couldn't say anything until he knew that the boy was doing this to himself.

Itachi's behaviour toward the general subject of drugs was his first indication. He mentioned the needles, casually, and the Uchiha heir got defensive, uptight, and usually stormed off, refusing to speak to him. He mentioned getting high, and Itachi wouldn't comment, but would sit, tight-lipped, chewing on his bottom lip ever so slightly, reigning in his inner thoughts.

Itachi got skittish if Orochimaru decided to clean his room, or even mentioned doing that, or mentioned the fact that there were lots of little brown bags up there, full of used needles. But behaviour wasn't much to go on. He needed something more solid to accuse the boy of.. Itachi, he knew, would have to be caught in the act before he'd ever admit to anything.

He'd been watching Itachi, for the past three or four days now, and he had to admit, the boy was good at keeping secrets. He hadn't mentioned anything, and he'd locked himself in Sasuke's room, before the boy had come home, and then, in the bathroom, or his parents' now deserted bedroom.

Now, however, he had all the evidence he needed to prove that Itachi was injecting the drug into himself, for himself. He was sitting on the bed, and Itachi walked in, fresh from his shower. The marks were so evident then; some of them scabbed over, some of them pinkish, or even tinged red, and one of them, black, a deep terrible colour, made so by infection.

They stared at each other, blankly for several minutes, and then, Itachi knew he was caught, and he closed the door behind him, giving in to shame and fear. "So what?" he grumbled.

"So what?" Orochimaru returned, voice joking, but humourless. "What are those marks?"

"Doesn't matter," Itachi grumbled, looking down, and letting his hair fall into his face, hiding his expression. 

"Yes, it does," Orochimaru returned.

He grabbed Itachi's wrist, turning it over, as if he needed to inspect the wounds more closely. The younger teen hissed and tried to pull away. "Don't," he murmured.

He wouldn't look at Orochimaru, and he was ashamed. He didn't want Orochimaru to know. It would hurt him; his ego, because now, Orochimaru would think he was weak, and stupid. He was, but he wasn't going to admit it. He'd never admit anything like that. Self-depreciation wasn't his thing.

It would make Orochimaru hate him. Orochimaru always sneered at those who thought drugs were the way out, were cool, or were anything to be done regularly. Orochimaru, though having a liberal attitude, was very mature in his views on drug use. He believed a little bit never hurt anybody, and that you only lived once.

But Orochimaru had seen the downside of drugs ever since he was small. He had seen addiction, and he had seen all the lengths, all the insanity the drugs drove people to, and he never wanted to look back. He never wanted to see somebody dig their own shallow grave with substance abuse again.

Itachi still wasn't looking at him, his eyes fixed on the floor, and though he didn't want to admit it, and would never admit it, there were tears burning at the edges of his eyes, trying to force their way out and make his shame known to the world.

His head was titled gently upward, and lips met lips, and then, tongue met tongue, gently, slowly, and almost sadly. It last only the fraction of a second, before it ended, but it dragged on forever, with the other teen's lips slowly pulling away, fading away from his own and becoming another memory to lose.

"I thought I was the only drug you needed," Orochimaru whispered, and they opened their eyes, their gazes meeting and boring into each other, paralysing them.

Itachi pulled away. "I'm so sorry," he murmured, looking at the floor, his words running into each other, becoming indeterminable.

There was silence between them for quiet a while, before Orochimaru, taking a tighter hold on Itachi's wrist, said, firmly, "You're getting off this stuff."

Itachi hissed and pulled away. "I don't think so," he growled, glaring at Orochimaru. "This was my choice." 

Orochimaru pushed him away, to the floor, and started snatching up needles and bags from the ground. "I don't care what you think. I'm not going to watch you fuck up," he growled, throwing the stuff in the garbage.

Itachi stared at him, sulking, on the floor, but not moving, not daring to fight the other boy, though he knew he could, and should. It wouldn't do to have the older thinking that he could get away with pushing him around. He couldn't, and he needed to be put back in his place. "Orochimaru," he growled.

The other boy looked at him. He frowned and glared. "You're not the only drug I need."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sakura had to admit, it hurt. She and Ino had been friends since they were in kindergarten, and rivals since sixth grade. Now, they didn't even speak to each other, and now, she had to watch Ino from afar.

Ino wouldn't speak to her, ever since Sakura had seen her go away in that black car. It sounded childish, but they were confused, or at least, she was, and Ino left her on her own to be confused. She hated it, and she wanted someone to explain all this to her.

She'd thought they'd been happy together. She honestly had. They got along so well together, but now, it was all like some sort of faded memory, painted in watercolours and she couldn't quite remember the vividness it once had. She hated this confused feeling, and she wanted her world to make sense again.

Things had made sense before. She and Ino were rivals, Sasuke was unobtainable, Naruto was an idiot, Shikamaru was lazy, and Lee was forever chasing her, though he'd never, ever get her. She wanted things to be clean cut like that again. It made sense when things were simple.

Now, she wasn't sure where she stood. Ino wouldn't talk to her; they were nothing anymore, Shikamaru ignored her, Lee plotted against her happiness, and Sasuke had been obtained by that idiot Naruto. It made her head spin. Where was happily ever after in such a messed up fairy tale?

Well, nobody ever said life was easy, and this certainly wasn't one of the easier things she'd ever had to do. It was hard to watch Ino walk away from her, when once they'd walked side by side and been friends, and it hurt when Ino shut her mouth and refused to speak, because once they'd been so open and spoke to each other of deep secrets that not even the moon would know of.

Who could she turn to in all of this? Where was her solace, where was her saviour? Nobody seemed to be there, nobody seemed to be on her side anymore. It was like they were all playing against her. She wanted to know who she could trust and who she couldn't. Then again, she supposed if she couldn't even trust Lee, who had so long wanted to be her knight, her prince, that she could trust no one. She was on her own. 

It scared her to think that she was alone, and now, she had to be strong, for herself. She had to work harder, she had to be tougher, and she couldn't let others talk on her behalf, and scare away all the bullies. She had to intimidate, she had to outwit, and she had to win over those she could, make them join her side, and stomp on others who would sneer and jibe her, and never join her side.

They could say what they wanted. She was only who she was, and she couldn't change it. She was Haruno Sakura, with pink hair, and green eyes, and she was a very intellectual girl. She was Haruno Sakura, and no matter what, she couldn't be strong. She just couldn't.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Iruka glared at Naruto, who was pointing at the two new fish in the tank. The blond was overly loving of the things already, and Iruka almost wished they didn't own fish, or a pond. "See, see! That one there, that's Sasuke, 'cause he's all pouty. And that one there, the bright orange one, that's me, 'cause. . .well, I like orange," he finished with a grin.

"Naruto," Iruka said with a sigh. "Where did you get the money for the fish?"

The blond's grin grew wider still. "Sasuke bought them for me! Valentine's present and all. Said he felt bad about not getting me anything." 

Iruka looked at him, his face sceptical. "Oh, really?" he asked.

"He insisted!" Naruto replied, waving his hands about for emphasis, and smashing his hand back against the glass. "Ow!"

Iruka shook his head, and looked at the fish a little more closely. "They're nothing special," he muttered. 

Naruto looked offended. "How can you say that, Iruka! It's Sasuke and I - as fish! Are you saying we're not special?"

"Not as fish, you aren't," the brunet grumbled, and walked out of the room.

Naruto trailed behind him. "Iruka!" the blond cried. "I need money!"

"What?" the teacher asked, stopping in the middle of the hallway and turning about abruptly. 

Naruto nodded. "I. . .uh, need to borrow some money, Iruka. I need to get Sasuke a present."

The teacher sighed exaggeratedly and fished out his wallet. "All right. How much did you need?"

He started thumbing through the poor selection of bills there. Naruto scuffed his foot against the floor. "Um. . .about three hundred."  
"Three hundred," Iruka said, then paused. "Three hundred! What the hell do you need three hundred dollars for!"

The blond ducked his head, looking at the floor, then peered up through his bangs, a strange expression scrawled on his face. "Um. . .well, I wanted to get him something special. . .and. . .I uh. . ."

Iruka sighed and put his hand on Naruto's shoulder. "Naruto. Whatever you give Sasuke will be special, okay? You don't need to spend three hundred dollars for it to be special."

The blond pouted. "Iruka!" he whined.

Iruka sighed. "Whatever you had in mind is too expensive. Save that for when you two are more serious, okay? For now get him something else."

"We are serious!" Naruto yelled, flinging his arms around again. "He doesn't want anything else!"

"I'm sure you'll find something," the teacher said reassuringly, before turning around and walking down the hall again.

Naruto sulked, crossing his arms and frowning. "Stupid Iruka," he muttered. "There's nothing else I can get Sasuke. He gets everything, and anything he doesn't, he buys himself. He throws out everything his fan club gives him."

He stormed into his room, slamming the door shut. He sat down on his bed and sulked, hating Iruka with every fibre of his being. Sure, Sasuke had only got him fish. Still, it seemed only fitting that he should get something Sasuke wanted, or at least would like in return. Sasuke didn't like a lot though, and there wasn't a lot Sasuke wanted. He hated Sasuke too, for being so picky.

Girls, you could buy them flowers, and they would be perfectly happy with that, because at least you remembered. Sasuke, he doubted, would be impressed by a bunch of flowers. He'd probably complain that he was allergic to them and throw them out, even if Naruto bought him hypo-allergenic flowers.

He sulked some more, and tried to think of other things he could buy. Pretty much anything, and everything, except for flowers or candy, both being hated by Sasuke, was out of his price range. He didn't want to make Sasuke something, because that seemed tacky and third grade like, so he thought and thought, and almost ended up in frustrated tears. How was it that whenever he cared, he could never show it properly?

It really, really was the pits he decided, still drawing a blank about what to get Sasuke. He sighed and dumped his piggy bank out, counting the spare change. He could buy coffee, chocolates, flowers or ice cream. That was about it. Or he could maybe buy a couple of candles and try his hand at cooking, but he doubted that would be impressive. He could make ramen, and that was about it. Sasuke didn't hate ramen, but he had a strong dislike for it.

"Bah," he grumbled, throwing himself back on his bed. "I can't buy him anything."

Downstairs, he heard a knock at the door, and then, he heard voices. One was Iruka's, and one was Kakashi's. He frowned, and wondered what they'd given each other for Valentine's. He knew Iruka probably knitted something, or cooked something, or did something like that, or maybe bought flowers, or something else. He had no idea what Kakashi would buy for Iruka though. Probably something extravagantly perverted, like the Kama Sutra. He snorted into his pillow.

"I need a job," he muttered, rolling over again and looking up at the ceiling.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Sasuke growled, listening to his brother and his boyfriend having a fight next door. Didn't they have any respect for people who were still recovering and trying to sleep? Apparently not. He snorted. Itachi never had much compassion for anyone.

He felt bad about buying those damn fish for Naruto. He didn't mind so much the fact that he had bought fish as a Valentine's present, but that now, Naruto was going to feel obligated to buy him something, even though the blond didn't have much money to spare. Sasuke didn't mind much. He'd never really been about materialism. He'd always chosen someone who was true and loyal to him over someone who thought they knew how they felt about him, and showered him in gifts to belay their affection. 

He sighed and turned over. He knew Naruto was going to worry about this, and try to buy him the next thing he saw that he wanted, whether it be the moon in the sky or lunch in the cafeteria tomorrow. He really didn't care what the blond bought him, just so long as he didn't get worked up about it.

He knew he was a hard person to buy for. He didn't want, need or like much. As he'd said, he was never one for materialism. He wanted to tell Naruto that it was okay, and he didn't need anything or want anything, so he didn't have to buy him anything, but that just wasn't in the blond's nature. It was irksome to say the very least.

He sighed and rolled over again, sighing. All he really wanted from Naruto was some good company - someone who was better company than his walls, or his brother and Orochimaru, or all his adoring fans. He really, really had begun to hate society and all the humans contained there within, before he'd awkwardly fallen on his face for Naruto. Absently, he rubbed his nose.

He turned over again, grumbling about the occupants of the other room, before hitting it, shouting, "Will you shut up!"  
He settled back down into his bed, pulling the covers over his head. Honestly, all he asked was good company. Sure, Naruto was annoying, and dumb and about a billion other things, but it really didn't matter. Naruto. . .was nice to him, Naruto would fight with him, and Naruto had a sense of humour. A good sense of humour, he added mentally, glancing at the wall and remembering that Orochimaru thought he was funny.

He sighed, curled up and went to sleep.

- - - - - - - -


	35. Lacking

(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! If you're reading, please remember to review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters. Special thanks goes out to Ruby Love, who originally beta'ed this chapter.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 35: Lacking

The day was bright. The sun was shining. There was a fresh breeze in the air. Spring was there. "At last," was all Naruto could say as he skipped out the door, backpack slung on his back. It was in that fashion that he skipped off to school. It wasn't really spring yet, but it was close enough. The weather was mild, unlike the deep freeze they'd been locked in since mid-December, and now, the snow was actually starting to melt. The water froze overnight though, and Naruto slid over countless ice patches. He didn't mind though. With the blue sky vaulting high overhead, he felt he had nothing to lose. He kept sticking his left hand into his pocket, making sure that Sasuke's present was still tucked there, safe and sound. He didn't want to lose it, especially not after the pains he'd gone through to get the money for it.

"Good morning, Shikamaru!" he cried, as he nearly ran the other boy over in his rush to get into the school building. Shikamaru hadn't bothered moving out of the way. One could never get out of the way of the bouncing orange ball of energy they all called 'Naruto', and it was far too troublesome to try. He muttered some obscenities, and glared at the back of the blond's head, but that was all he did. Effort was overrated.

Naruto was glad they didn't have band practice that morning. He knew Iruka had wanted to set an extra practice up, but Naruto had finally convinced him that Mondays weren't good attendance days anyway. Iruka had sighed, and agreed. Still, the brunet teacher had threatened, there were going to be extra practices. The big competition, and their performance night, was quickly approaching.

"Good morning, Hinata!" he called to the girl as he passed her by. He flashed the biggest grin he could muster, and watched in amusement as she went red and stumbled all over any semblance of a greeting.

By the time she sorted herself out, he was long gone. Naruto continued on in this fashion, calling out to random people he knew, simply because he was in such a good mood. He finally reached his destination, and then, his smile seemed a thousand watts brighter.

He fumbled with Sasuke's present in his pocket. His fingers tripped all over it, as if they did not want to pick it up. He was nervous. He'd been thinking about this moment all last night, and he had a sick feeling in his stomach that Sasuke was simply going to hate what he'd bought him. 

Still, how was that any different than what Sasuke went through with the fan girls? They bought him things he hated, or did not want, time after time, and then, he threw them away. It didn't really matter in the long run. But Naruto didn't want to be like the fan girls.

"Good morning, Sasuke!" he called, waving at the other boy, showing no outward sign of nervousness.

The dark-haired boy grunted, and turned back to his locker. The text books were on a rampage that morning, and seemingly, were out for his blood. They'd already hit him in the head once. Naruto ponced over to him, still grinning brightly. He held out his hands, offering Sasuke the small box. "Happy very belated Valentine's," he said.

Sasuke eyed the box warily, then plucked it from Naruto's grasp. "It had better not be anything stupid," he muttered, and proceeded to untie the ribbon.

Naruto waited. He bit his lip, and rubbed his palms together, in an effort to get the sweat off of them. He hoped Sasuke liked this. He really did. It had been a real hassle to get it. Sasuke was more concerned with getting the infernal ribbon off of his fingers, however.

The dark-haired boy opened the box, and was not surprised at its content. After all, what else would Naruto hand to him in a ring box? He pulled the plain gold band out of the box, and inspected it.

It was plain. There was nothing more to it. There was no inscription, no engraving, nothing. He didn't make any comment. He would have thought that Naruto would have had something tacky engraved on it. 

He tried sliding it onto his ring finger, but it simply fell right back off. It clattered onto the floor, and both he and Naruto looked at it for a moment.

"Do you like it?" Naruto asked, not taking his eyes off the thing on the floor.

"I suppose," Sasuke replied. "How did you get them to size it though? It's a little big."

Naruto frowned, watching as Sasuke picked it up, and then put it on his index finger. "I had them use my finger."

"Oh," the other boy muttered. "That explains everything."

He took it off and put it back in the ring box. "Do you not like it?" Naruto asked.

"I like it," Sasuke said, without any enthusiasm. "It just doesn't fit. I don't want to lose it."

"Oh," Naruto replied, and watched as Sasuke snapped the box shut and put it inside his locker.

The dark-haired boy picked up on the hurt, almost insulted, tone in Naruto's voice, and quickly, briefly, gave Naruto a hug, which seemed more to be a pat on the back. "Thanks," he said, quickly.

Naruto shrugged off the curtness of the hug, and the sharpness of the words. It was just Sasuke, and that was all it could be summed up to. The older boy gave a sort of cough, and turned away. Naruto raised an eyebrow. "You okay?"

"Fine," the other replied.

The bell rang, loudly in their ears. Naruto smiled, briefly at Sasuke. "Well," he said.

"I'm going to class," Sasuke replied, shortly, grabbing his text book out of his locker. "I'll talk to you later."

He slammed his locker shut, and walked off down the hall. Naruto tried to shrug it off, but he couldn't help but feel Sasuke was being a jerk. He turned about and went to class. There was no use brewing over things. 

He'd find out what was bothering Sasuke sooner or later. 

- - - - - - - - - -

Itachi didn't want to be there, sitting in the classroom, with the teacher droning on and on like he was. He didn't want to be there, with all those confusing words, numbers and figures in front of him. The sheet was intimidating to a point, staring back blankly like it was. He wanted to tear it up, so that it couldn't look at him like that.

He didn't want to be there, with Orochimaru poking him every so often, to make sure he wasn't nodding off, to make sure he was still coherent and there in their world. Itachi wanted to snap his fingers in half, but he knew that even that wouldn't deter Orochimaru, the most persistent of pests.

"Fuck off," he hissed at last.

The teacher glanced in his direction, and he almost flipped him the bird. He didn't want to be tampered with. Instead, he bared his teeth in a rather nasty grin. The teacher ignored him and went on teaching. 

His fingers itched and he wanted to be home, locked in his room. Orochimaru poked him yet again. He grit his teeth. He was so close to snapping, it wasn't funny. It wasn't going to be a pretty sight either. There was going to be blood everywhere. . .

He heaved a sigh, and tried to calm his frazzled nerves. There was no point in being all worked up like this. Sure, his head hurt and his body ached, but all he was doing was making his woes worse. It was most likely that his pains were more imaginary than real anyways.  
If Orochimaru poked him one more time, he was going to tear him limb from limb, cut out his entrails and make soup out of them.

He felt sick. The world was that much out of his control now. The blackboard was slightly fuzzy around the edges, getting worse with each passing second. It was like looking at everything through a frosted window.

Orochimaru was still poking him. Why did he bother to waste his effort in making threats he wouldn't fulfill? If he'd been that determined to go through with his plans, Orochimaru would be fingerless, dead, and soup by now. He was none of these three.

And now, the teacher had just asked him the answer to the question. Maybe, if he'd heard the question, he could have told him the answer. Maybe, if he had been listening. Maybe if he hadn't been so concerned with ripping Orochimaru to shreds. 

And pride made him stumble now, and fumble now, because he hadn't been listening, but he didn't want to admit his mistake. He was Uchiha Itachi. He wasn't supposed to make mistakes. He was supposed to be perfect. He was the heir, the genius. Sasuke might have screwed up and stumbled, but he shouldn't have. Sasuke had always had that liberty. Nobody cared what he did. Everybody cared what Itachi did.

It had become an internal force, knowing that he could never let anybody know if he messed up. It pressed on him wherever he went, always pressing down, harder and harder, squeezing so tightly until he couldn't dare breathe lest he fuck it all up. It hurt. It did, and he was so scared of doing anything that would make everything fall to pieces. He would just mess it up, and then, everybody would be scrutinizing and saying, in their whining, grating voices, "Are you sure he's meant to be the head of the family?"

He never had a moment's peace from it, and he'd had the need to be perfect forced into him with everything he did, everything he said. It had become second nature. And now, long after his parents were dead, now that he was head of the family, and his relatives were all gone, he still needed to be perfect. He needed to be perfect, because if he wasn't then he'd hate himself, and hate himself until he hurt himself, because he could never, ever right his wrongs.

The teacher was still waiting, and so was everyone else now. They had swivelled around in their seats, and they were staring at him, waiting, with bated breaths. Uchiha Itachi was never wrong. What was taking him so long to answer? If he didn't understand the question, none of them would. They could never hope to match wits with a genius like that.

"I. . ."

Here it came. Everyone listened hard. The entire room shifted, so that they were all leaning toward him, as if he was the core of their very universe.

"I don't know."  
The teacher looked stern, and the students looked as if they were going to die. He'd said he didn't know! How could any of them possibly hope to know?

"Were you listening?" the teacher asked, and his voice was stern, clearly disappointed.

Itachi looked down, away. "No, Sir." 

There. The bomb had been let off, and now, the world as he knew it was about to fall to pieces again. He just wanted to go home. He didn't care about this. He didn't care about the question. He just wanted to go home and pump drugs into himself, to lose himself in rapture again.

He wanted to forget this; some of the other students laughing a little nervously at him, the teacher looking, and being, so disappointed in him, and Orochimaru's sympathetic look to him. It was like Sasuke's when they were younger and Itachi had done something the adults disapproved of. Then, Sasuke would do something to take the pressure off his older brother, steal the attention away from his idol.

Orochimaru was going to do something stupid, wasn't he? And then, Itachi would be embarrassed to know him. This day kept on the straight and narrow toward hell. What he wouldn't give to be curled up in his room, fast asleep, rocked to sleep by the satisfaction of the drug inside him, pumping, mixing with his blood, making him let go of all his worldly attachments and just exist for a moment or two; for a breath or two. 

He put his face to the paper, so that all he could see was white. All he could smell was the scent of photocopy, leaden and disgusting, and he shut his ears to everything, drowning every sound out with his mental dialogue, screaming, over and over to himself, until his inner voice was raw, "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

He wanted to scream himself hoarse. He wanted to tear at his hair. He wanted to give up. He wanted to throw a temper tantrum like a five-year old - something he had never done. It was a little too late for tantrums now.

Today didn't look like his day.

- - - - - - - -

It was almost silent. The only thing that was actually making noise was the ticking of the clock, counting down time. If he tried very hard, he might have been able to make out other sounds. He didn't want to try, though. He was through with trying, and conforming. He was done with expectations.

It was nice. The sun was warm, warmer than it had been in a long time, and the wind was fair. It was a good day to be outside. He wiggled his fingers a bit, and enjoyed the sunshine. He hadn't done that before in his lifetime. It was an exhilarating thing. There was so much he hadn't done before, because of his constraints. He'd always preferred the night, when darkness made it so that no one ever saw what he really was.

He was a freak. No matter what he did, where he went, who he saw, he was still a freak. It was just so natural to him, to be as unnatural as they thought he was. He supposed that maybe that was why he identified himself with Naruto so strongly, though Naruto was really the last person on earth he'd want to be like.

It was true that Gaara didn't like Naruto, but that dislike was born from prejudice. From his mother, from Temari, from the stories they had told, he had developed a sense of dislike for someone he had never met, for someone he didn't know as anymore than a name and a shadow. In those stories, warped by bias and hate, Naruto was always portrayed as something grotesquely wrong and dangerous.

Now that Gaara had met him, he felt he had been almost forced to give up those strong prejudices, but he hadn't yet let go of them entirely. He still wanted to believe that Naruto was unlike himself. He didn't want to let go of the idea that there was something worse than what he was. And still, the truth refused to go away.

Gaara had been a little sorry to let Naruto go. He had wanted to take his half-sibling with him, and together, they could have explored what the world offered two such as themselves: freaks. Together, they could have discovered just what made them so similar. And perhaps they could have come to a conclusion about being freaks. These labels were nothing more than superficial divisions, set up by a society that wanted everything categorized, and hid from anything peculiar.

Gaara had travelled out of the city that night, far out of all the cities, almost beyond civilization itself, into the wilderness. He was out in the country, living out of his suitcase, or rather, his backpack. He had no money, and he stole food, and begged for money on the doorsteps of the poor farmers. Most had turned him away, but some had offered him a meal, or a hot bath, or a place to sleep that night. It was strange, to see that these folk, who had only modest things, would offer up what they did have. City people had more, and more, and never shared. The greed in the cities was so thick, you could choke on it.

For the most part, Gaara slept in a makeshift tent, and wore the same clothes everyday. He didn't mind. It was better to be dirty, than in the pristine chains of society. Dirt was natural, an element of the earth. His chains had been given to him before he'd even been able to prove himself worthy of them. How was he supposed to break free? He'd never known anything but those shackles. He'd never known movement without his label.

Maybe one day, he'd go back. He doubted it though. He saw no point in going back. To the casual observer, the materialist, the sort of existence he was leading now was pointless. He didn't think it was so. Sure, he didn't have a lot, but he had more in his head, in his soul (if he had one) than that damn materialistic bastard.

He felt, and knew that he was small compared to the rest of the universe. He looked up at the sky now, and he felt that there was no rush to do anything. There was nothing that needed to be done. His stomach was full, and he wasn't in danger. By all animal rights, he was allowed to relax.

That was the materialistic, capitalistic societies' problem. They thought time was money, and could be bought and sold, just like any other commodity. They didn't stop to realize that all the tasks they had to do, like some sort of endless cycle, were self-imposed, and as soon as they were fed and safe, they had nothing more to do. No, they'd imposed all these wants and needs that shouldn't have existed in the first place - television, cars, and so on and so forth. People grabbed and scurried, blinded with greed, and rushed unnecessarily by the thought of all the things they had to do, and that time was money, to get what they wanted, and not what they needed. They weren't really living.

They never took the time to appreciate how a day could seem to wear on forever, or how insignificant they really were. They never stopped to feel the wind in their face, the sweet breath of the world that lived all around them. They were detached completely from the world, and life went on outside of them, ignoring them, and leaving them to die petty deaths. 

It was romantic, and idealistic, but Gaara didn't care. He didn't want to live like they did in the city, in their so called "civilization". He just wanted to exist. That was enough for him. Right then, he was existed and only he and the sky knew it. The only reason he'd ever go back to the city was for Naruto. He wouldn't stay there long; just long enough for Naruto to get a couple of things and then, they'd go away from that forever. The city held no awe, no wonder for him. Their jagged buildings just cut up the horizon.

He wondered where Naruto would be happiest. In the city, with Uchiha, with all the troubles and pointless drama such a life entailed, or out here, under the sky, with nothing but that sky and the empty, rolling land that seemed to go on forever. If Naruto was anything like him, he'd have to say the blond would be happier out here, with him.

The only thing that inspired any awe in Gaara now was the sky, and how small it made him. The emptiness of the world made him feel as if the world did truly go on forever, as if he would never grow old and die. The hills, they rolled on and on, and the sky kept stretching, as did the forest. The rivers wound their way across that empty expanse, toward the far off sea, which he couldn't even imagine. It was too far removed from this place. 

Gaara felt like snorting. He was being stupid, and he knew it. This was just another way of living, and the world didn't go on forever. It ended, but you couldn't fall off of it. The only escape was death, and everyone eventually died. He was in no hurry to die, like those idiots in the city, rushing toward their deaths. He was existing and he was going to enjoy existing. He'd lived like those other idiots too long. Life was too quick, too sudden to bother worrying about the next move, wondering about the future. What good were carefully laid plans when you got shot with a bullet and died of blood loss the next minute? The world made no sense. It was chaotic, and humanity had made a mess of it, turned it into a jumbled puzzle they couldn't solve. Gaara had absolved himself, removed himself from it and gone back to the source, as all things did at their end. 

- - - - - - - -

The school day was over at last, and that was all Ino could find to be thankful for. She wasn't thankful that she was still alive, nor that Shikamaru was standing there with Choji, next to her. She was not thankful that Sakura was lurking around in the background, alone and morbid, moping. Nobody talked to her anymore. Ino didn't understand why she continued to hang around.

She was most certainly not thankful that Temari was standing on the other side of the street, leaning against her car. The older girl was waving at her, and Ino glanced at her companions beside her to see if they had noticed her waiting friend. Sakura hadn't, thankfully, as she was too intensely focussed on the ground. Choji hadn't either, as he was too involved with the bag of chips Shikamaru had grudgingly bought him from the vending machine, amid proclamations of everlasting love from the tubby brunet. Shikamaru, however, had indeed noticed.

"Hey, Ino," he said, keeping his voice low, having noticed her wary glance at the group. "Who's that?"

Ino shrugged. "My cousin," she lied, quickly.

Temari was crossing the road now. In her mind, Ino screamed at her, telling her to stay on the other side of the road, where she belonged. Temari might say something, do something that contradicted her lie, and there would be nothing she could do, because Temari was that kind of person. She couldn't be stopped. 

"Hello, Sakura dear!" Temari called, waving at the pink-haired girl and rushing by Ino, to take Sakura's hand.

The green-eyed girl was wide-eyed, staring at the blonde woman, who smiled happily at her. "Y-yes?" Sakura stuttered, completely taken aback by this strange woman. She didn't know her, did she? 

"Let's get going. I'll explain on the way."

She dragged Sakura off, looking Ino directly in the eye as she passed. Ino was scowling, and she winked cheekily, before practically skipping to her car. Ino stared after her, watching as the two got into the vehicle, and the doors slammed shut. It took off, leaving Ino wretchedly confused and glaring.

"Your cousin, huh?" Shikamaru said, his voice coming from her left, slyly.

"Shut up," Ino growled, turning about and stalking off.  
What the hell was Temari up to? She hadn't been using Ino to get to Sakura, had she? Ino couldn't tell. Temari was one of those unpredictable people, someone you could never sort out. She enjoyed playing mind games with Ino.

Ino didn't want to believe she had just been ousted by that ugly duck and her big forehead. It didn't make sense. She was prettier, smarter, stronger - better than Sakura. Why would Temari choose that wimp? Maybe it was because she could bully Sakura more than she could bully Ino?

"Shit," she muttered, and sat down on the front steps of the school, looking at the ground and thinking.

Was there something she had missed about Sakura?

- - - - - - - - - -

Hinata had been aglow all day. It was starting to grate on Kiba's nerves. It wasn't as if he didn't like to see her happy, but it bothered him that she was so happy about such a stupid thing.

So what if Naruto had smiled at her? It had only been in passing, and people like him often said hello and smiled. She didn't get that excited about Kiba smiling at her. It bothered him.

Somehow, although he'd been accepted by her, he hadn't been able to eclipse Naruto. She would still pick Naruto over him any day. It almost hurt, to see her look at him that way, and ignore the way he wanted her. It was a bit like a hopeless love triangle, except that the third side was missing.

She sat there, quietly, poking her fingers together and occasionally, giggling at little bit. There was a small smile on her face, and her cheeks were red. If she had been one of the popular, talkative girls at school, she would have said, "I can't believe he said hi to me!"

Kiba could only be thankful that she didn't. He was glad that she was there, with him, even though it was after school. He'd been looking for an excuse not to go home, and just sitting there was a good enough excuse for him. It wasn't as if anybody at home would care if he was late.

Sitting with them was Kiba's best friend, Shino. Kiba had been sort-of friends, on-again-off again friends, with Shino since they were in preschool. Shino was quiet and reserved, but he was an excellent listener. He was the brains behind everything they did, and Kiba was the brawn. Shino could write and read better than Kiba ever would, and he understood everything he read. He was a real intellectual. Kiba was anything but that. Kiba hated books, and everything that was in them. His part in their odd friendship was getting the materials to the project, putting them together, and then, presenting it to the class. Kiba even had some sort of artistic ability, which Shino claimed he lacked.

Together, they were an almost dynamic force. Shino must have sensed Kiba's agitation, however, for he was sitting almost as far away from him as he possibly could without looking ridiculous. He was apparently just waiting for the explosion. Kiba seriously wondered about Shino sometimes. He'd never even been to the other boy's house. Shino never talked about his family. In fact, Shino rarely talked at all. It was usually Kiba who did all the talking. Kiba never clammed up and Shino never opened up.

Hinata had risen now, and she was saying that she had to go. She said goodbye to Kiba, and to Shino, and then, she was on her way. Shino glanced at Kiba, once the girl was out of earshot.

"What did she do?" he asked, bluntly, in that quiet, calm voice of his. 

Fading sunlight glanced off the taller teen's sunglasses. Kiba shrugged. "Naruto said hi to her, and she's been on cloud nine ever since," he grumbled. "It kinda. . .pissed me off, I guess. I dunno."

He sighed and hung his head. Shino said nothing for a moment or two. Then, slowly, he said, "She still likes Naruto then?" He arched an eyebrow.

Kiba kicked at a rock. "Yeah. She likes him more than me, I think." 

He sulked a bit, and kept kicking at the random pebbles that littered the ground. The snow had melted off enough to let them be visible again. Shino had stood up now. "I should go," he said, and he didn't even wait for Kiba to say anything back, before he started walking off.

Kiba ignored that. It was just Shino. He was always kind of abrupt. He was a nice guy though. "See ya tomorrow, Shino," he called, turning his back on his friend and heading in the direction of home.

He had to go too, he supposed. He had to go walk Akamaru, and after that, he'd lock himself in his room and sleep. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he departed.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Sakura was horribly confused, even though this Temari had claimed to have explained the entire situation to her.

Temari had said that Sakura's mother had been in a car accident and was now at the hospital. She had explained that she was a friend of her mother's, from work, and her mother had asked her to let Sakura stay the night with her.

Sakura didn't quite understand that. For one, her mother worked at a fairly high-class office, and this girl did not look like she should work there. Secondly, her mother had never mentioned a friend, or a co-worker named Temari. Third, wouldn't someone have called her if her mother was in the hospital?  
The entire story seemed fishy and subject to question. Sakura didn't want to believe a word of it, but Temari seemed to be trustworthy. 

Something else was bothering her, though, and she remembered, as they drove along, that she had seen Ino with this girl before. She remembered seeing the car in the parking lot before, and Ino getting into the car. She remembered that. Something definitely wasn't adding up here.

She frowned, and was pensive as the highway rolled by her, but she didn't say anything. Temari was in control right now. She had no idea where she currently was, she had read the street signs, but all the names were unfamiliar. Temari was also driving the car, and the only person she even remotely knew at that moment. Temari practically had her life in her hands. She had no choice but to trust her.

The sun had nearly set, when Temari pulled into the parking lot of a run down apartment building. Sakura guessed they were on the other side of town. Temari parked the car and turned it off, before turning to Sakura.

The pink-haired teen didn't look away when the older girl looked at her. "Sakura," the blonde said. "You're a smart girl. I bet you've figured out that I lied to you."

Sakura frowned and nodded. What was this girl's motive? She couldn't understand her. Temari was smiling at her. "So, I guess you want to know the truth."

"How will I know you're telling me the truth?" the younger girl asked. "You've already lied to me once."

Temari smirked. "Good girl. Well, this time, you're just going to have to believe me." 

Sakura looked unimpressed. She'd wait to hear the lie before she decided whether or not she wanted to believe it.

Temari was still smiling. "I'm Ino's girlfriend. I'm bored with her, though. She was telling me about you, and I want to know you better." 

She played with Sakura's hair a little bit. Sakura frowned. "Ino doesn't like me," she said flatly.

Temari shrugged. "Ino tries to make you sound bad, but it makes me more intrigued. I want you to prove her wrong."

Sakura looked almost scared. She didn't know what Ino had said about her. How could she prove her wrong? Would she be able to prove Ino wrong anyway? What if Ino was right?

"I can't," she choked out, trying to push the older girl away.

"Sure ya can," Temari said reassuringly, patting Sakura's thigh. "Let's go inside now."  
She got out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her. Sakura sat in the car for a moment or two longer, unable to decide what to do, and frozen by fear. With a sudden surge of determination, she got out of the car, and slammed the door shut harder than Temari had, resulting in a louder bang.

She was going to prove Ino wrong.

- - - - - - - - - -

Silence pervaded the room, and it invaded every nook, and every cranny. It took up all the space, until there was hardly room to breathe. She hated it when he left her alone. She really did.

TenTen was alone, with nothing to do. There was nothing for her to do. Neji was gone, and she was useless, as far as anyone else was concerned. She was to stay out of the way, out of sight. She was idle and it bothered her. She had nothing to occupy her.

Her empty mind turned to thoughts, and her thoughts quickly turned reflective. She didn't want to think about the things she was thinking about most of the time. She didn't want to wonder about what she was doing there, when she knew perfectly well why she was. She didn't want to think about why she had decided not to abandon her pregnancy. She didn't know the answer to that, and no matter how deeply she searched herself, she could never come up with an answer.

She hated to be idle, because it was then that she thought the most, and felt the most. She felt weary of existence as a whole. What was the point of living when she had nothing to live for? She had no purpose on the earth anymore.

She hated to be alone, because it was in that time when she was by herself, that her fears were allowed to trample her. Her insecurities found her and chewed at her, first by saying, "What if he never comes back?"

Then, she'd spend the time to convince herself that he would come back, and he wouldn't abandon her as she was, but her inner demons always came up with new questions, new reasons as to why he would, why he should. She grew weary and weak from fighting them, and she gave up more than once, feeling the fight was impossible to continue.

She cried on more than one occasion, by herself, alone. She was so scared, of everything now, and she had only just realized it. She had too many questions and too few answers. She felt like some sort of puppet in somebody else's play. She felt like a supporting character, useless and gone, once her purpose was served.

She didn't want to feel like that anymore. She had never wanted to feel like that in the first place.

She hadn't asked for this, nor had she invited it. She hadn't wanted things to turn out this way, but she supposed, in the end, it was her mistake. Neji wouldn't want to share the blame for her folly, and she knew it was solely hers.

But there was no use in blaming herself, for there was no one left to blame. She was no longer there.

- - - - - - - - - - - 

"Naruto," Sasuke said, and the blond glanced over at him. 

They'd been sitting in Sasuke's room for about half-an-hour now, and neither one of them had said anything. The blond glanced up from the floor, where Sasuke had made him read his textbook.

"What?" he asked.

Sasuke was eyeing the ring he'd been given. "How did you get the money for this?" he asked.

The blond was silent. He looked back down at his textbook, pretending to read furiously. He didn't want to tell Sasuke what he'd done. The other boy would make him return the ring, no doubt.

"Naruto?" Sasuke asked, half hanging off the bed now in the fashion of a demented bat.

"Doesn't matter," he muttered, keeping his head low. He didn't want Sasuke to see the shame in his eyes.

"Naruto," Sasuke growled. "Tell me how you got the money for this."

"I borrowed it from Iruka," the blond replied, then snapped his attention back to the textbook.

"Okay," Sasuke said, clambering back onto the bed.

Naruto nearly sighed in relief. He hadn't wanted to let Sasuke know that he'd actually taken the money without Iruka's permission. There had been no way around it, though, if he wanted to get Sasuke something nice.

"Hey," Sasuke said. "If you want to quit studying now, you can come up here and I'll thank you properly for my present."

"How?" Naruto asked, keeping his eyes down on the page. He didn't like the suggestive tone in Sasuke's voice.

"How do you think?" the other boy asked.

"I don't think we should," Naruto replied.

"Why not?"

"You're not feeling well."

Now, that put Sasuke on the spot. He'd been trying to hide it since he'd got home from the hospital that he still wasn't one hundred percent recuperated, and he'd thought he'd been doing a fairly good job. Apparently, Naruto had seen right through him.

"I feel fine," he grumbled, crossing his arms and looking away.

"Don't lie to me," Naruto muttered, never taking his eyes off the page. "You feel like crap. Believe me. I've been there."

Sasuke said nothing, and the silence was dark and heavy for a few minutes. "Whatever," the older boy muttered at last. "Study away then."

"Thanks," Naruto said. "I think I will."

They were silent again. A little while later, Sasuke slid off the bed, to sit beside Naruto. He didn't say anything though, even when Naruto glanced up at him. The silence dragged on a little longer.

There was a hesitant touch on Naruto's shoulder, and then, Sasuke flopped down beside him, to stare at the page with him. It was then that the blond realized he'd been reading the same paragraph for the past few minutes.

"I really want to," Sasuke whispered. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," Naruto muttered. "But you're still not well."

Sasuke said nothing, and lay there with him. They were close together, hip to hip in fact, and Naruto thought that for now, that was more than enough. Sasuke didn't think so, though, and his hands wandered a little bit, tangling in Naruto's hair, stroking his cheek. Once, the blond thought he felt Sasuke's lips on his cheek, but he couldn't tell.

"Sasuke," he murmured. "Please."

"Please what?" Sasuke whispered, placing his mouth almost directly behind Naruto's ear. 

"Don't," Naruto grumbled.

The dark-haired boy stopped his ministrations. "Why are you being so uptight?" he muttered, almost inaudibly.  
"Because you need to be better." 

He turned the page, effectively ending the conversation. Sasuke turned away from him, looked to the wall, to his studies, and Naruto remained, surprisingly, immersed in his book.

Outside, the sun was setting, going down in a set of crimson flames, but neither of them really noticed. Somehow, it didn't seem important. 

Somehow, nothing seemed important anymore. They were drifting apart again, back to the state they'd been in when they'd originally started this. Right now, they were just desperately clinging to the shreds of what they'd had, but they knew that there wasn't anything there for either of them any longer.

They had to give up. One way or another, the end was inevitable. Eternity didn't exist; at least, not for them, not there, not in that place. 

It was only a dream, after all.

- - - - - - - - - - - -


	36. Clear My Head

(Author's Note: Please remember to review, if you're reading! Have a question, or a comment? Liked what you read? Didn't like what you read? Thought it could be improved? Then, by all means, tell me! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters. Special thanks to Ruby Love, who originally beta'ed this chapter.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 36: Clear My Head

First, there was the unmistakable sound of metal scraping metal. Then, there was more unidentifiable noise, screeching and screaming from all directions. Sensation and disorientation followed hot on the noise's heels, and over and over, head over heels went the vehicle. The metal banged against the asphalt, squealed against more metal. Paint was stripped away.

Surprisingly, Iruka could think of nothing. He could see everything - the flying metal, the shattering glass, and the occasional red that was blood - sweep across his vision, but nothing registered. It was blurry.

He didn't feel sick, except because they were going over and over, like they were on some sort of twisted roller coaster. He didn't feel scared, or worried, because he could hear Konohamaru screaming, somewhere in the melee - or maybe that was him? The blood wasn't making him squeamish like it should have - was it his, or someone else's?

And then, the ride stopped, screeching to a halt, suddenly, throwing his head back against the seat. He thought he might have heard his neck snap, but he couldn't tell. The air was too confused with noise.

The seatbelt was cutting into him, and the entire world seemed upside down. The windshield seemed to be gone, replaced by dirt and turf. It was funny; he didn't remember the glass shattering, flying out at them from all directions.

If he glanced sideways, to the right, he could see that the glass of the window clung painfully to the frame of the car. If he glanced to his left, he could just vaguely see what he thought might be Kakashi, lying across the steering wheel, like some sort of broken doll.

There was more noise now. Sirens run in his ears, and echoed in the air. There was not a second's silence, and he couldn't breathe, because when he inhaled, there was smoke and dust and pain. He coughed, but nothing came.

The noise was dizzying, spinning all around him - brakes, tires screeching, horns and sirens, and yelling, yelling, yelling! There were people yelling, in voices he didn't think he'd ever recognize, and now, burning; the sound of everything being too, too hot.

There was screaming again, which might have been him, and then, he could see someone's leg, covered in a dusty brown pant leg, spattered with black. This person was yelling now, but it was as if he was speaking in some foreign language. A face, marred with soot and ash, came close to the window and said something over the noise, but he didn't hear it.

He closed his eyes, and screamed, though there still was no noise, no breath, and metal was painstakingly wrenched open, pried apart. It screamed and squealed at its torture, and at last, gave in.

Hands were there now, in front of him, moving and blurring all together, making him sick with their frantic movement. A knife, pressed against him, and the fibres of his being were sawed away. The seatbelt frayed, then let go, and those hands began to pull him free.

The hands were attached to people, and they were moving him toward a white vehicle, with flashing lights. He tried to tell himself that he didn't hurt. His bruises screamed otherwise, and he shut his eyes, trying to forget. He still couldn't breathe.

He wanted to look back, and he wanted to see Konohamaru and Kakashi getting out of that car, but when he turned about, there were people in the way. He wanted to scream at them, but he was too senseless, too breathless to do anything more than be herded along to the ambulance. He was shaking now; badly. He wanted to fall down. He wanted to gag. All he could taste was ash, and burning human hair. He stumbled.

There was blood on his forehead, and glass stuck in his arm. He didn't care. He just didn't care. He shook, and he sat there and he looked back toward the wreck, waiting for Kakashi and Konohamaru.

He couldn't see. There were still people in the way. There were people all about him-talking to him, asking him things, asking each other things. Someone draped a blanket about him, and went away.

There was still no Kakashi, and there was still no Konohamaru. He waited, and he waited, but still no one emerged from that wreck. With every passing second, he felt more and more like throwing up, and could taste the ash in the air. It became sharper and sharper, until it was tainted with the unmistakable scent of copper and human blood.

That stayed with him, even as the rest of the world blanked out, and became stark white. He could taste it in the very lack of substance behind his eyes.

He woke up, and everything was still very, very white. Everything smelled sterile; it stunk of sanitizers and antiseptics. The scent of blood and ash pervaded even that overriding odour. It blended, and it made him gag.

It was very quiet. There was the soft beeping of some machine, but beyond that, silence reigned supreme. He wondered for a second if he was dead. The sun was shining outside, and the sky was very, very blue. But he was inhaling and it hurt.  
He remembered the seatbelt, and he laid his hand lightly over his chest, wincing, and felt the abrasions. He settled back against his pillow, and closed his eyes, trying to remember that he had to breathe, despite the terrible pain it caused him.

He drifted, for a long while, in and out of sleep, and back and forth across conscious states. Some nameless people in white came and went, but he didn't pay them any mind. They didn't ask any questions, so neither did he. He didn't want to ask the question he needed an answer to. The words, the thoughts made his mouth go dry.

He waited in silence.

Footsteps came to him very late in the afternoon, or he thought it was the late afternoon. That gait belonged to Naruto. The blond was alone, because there were no more footfalls behind him, or in front of him.

He cracked open an eye as the door cracked open. There was Naruto, peeking in, like a scared child, timid and unsure. "Iruka," he said, so, so softly, and it broke Iruka's heart because his Naruto was not quiet.

The blond boy shuffled in, empty-handed and alone. "Naruto," the brunet mumbled, closing his eye again.

The blond shuffled into the room, and shut the door behind him. He scuttled over to the bed and sat down. "How are you, Iruka?" he asked, his tone still muted.

The brunet shrugged. "Okay, I suppose," he murmured.

He wasn't hungry for talk. He didn't want to discuss all his pains. He wanted to know what had happened back there. He wanted to know where Kakashi and Konohamaru were. He bit his tongue, and forced the words not to come. He didn't think he could bear it if Naruto had to tell him.

"Iruka," Naruto mumbled, and put his head down on the brunet's blanket.

Iruka reached down and stroked the boy's golden locks. They were rough and tumbled, but he didn't mind. They were just like Naruto. They were loud, obnoxious and they didn't lay down when they were told to. He smiled a bit, though it seemed to crack his head in two. 

Naruto wasn't looking at him, which was not a good thing. He tried to just be happy that Naruto was there. He was not alone. He could feel the blond's warmth and he wanted to hug him, just to make sure he was really there.

"Have they told you yet?"   
The blond's voice made Iruka's waning smile evaporate. It was harsh, and it grated on the air, like broken shards, poking and prodding, pushing in and staying imbedded. Iruka didn't like that tone. In fact, it scared him a bit. It warned, and it foreshadowed things to come.

"No," he replied, feeling breathless with anticipation, and sick with nervousness.

He faltered, his hand getting tangled in Naruto's locks, and he was shaking so badly he could barely pull them free. He didn't want to hurt Naruto.

He was trapped now, a prisoner of adrenaline and his own fear. He dreaded what Naruto had to say to him. The blond delayed, rolling his head, so that his face was trapped between blanket and himself, cutting himself off from the atmosphere most human beings needed to survive.

"Iruka," Naruto mumbled again, and trailed off. 

Iruka wanted to shake him now, and scream at him to tell him what was going on. What had they not told him yet?

"They're dead," Naruto mumbled, so softly, Iruka thought he'd misheard him.

The breath was thumped out of him by those words, and his heart stopped, for a split second, then resumed thumping at a furious pace, fuelling his raging thoughts.

"Dead?" was all he could manage, strangled under the meaning of the word; the real meaning of the word.

Naruto nodded, and the lines of his face were clear cut. Iruka had the insight to know that this wasn't one of Naruto's sick jokes. "Dead," he repeated, the sound of his own voice dull and dusty.

Naruto pursed his lips, and sat up just a bit. "Kakashi-sensei was dead before they got there." 

Iruka closed his eyes and started to shake his head. He couldn't wrap his mind around the concept. Kakashi, though he'd been easy going and lazy, had been full of life, and he simply couldn't imagine lying beside the corpse of that vibrant man. They'd spoken, just that morning, and he simply couldn't not be there, not going to talk ever again. It was impossible.

"And Konohamaru," Naruto droned.

"No," the brunet said, and shook his head, fighting to keep the tears at bay. "No, just no. There's no way. . ."

"I'm sorry, Iruka! I'm so sorry," Naruto was saying, and Iruka could hear the apologetic, pathetic tone that pervaded the teenager's voice, and how it trembled.  
"No, no, no. . .I was talking to him, and now. . ." 

The man stopped himself short, and for a second, struggled to pull himself together, before falling all apart again. The tears came freely at last, and flowed. He choked and he sobbed, and he wheezed, but none of it would breathe life into a corpse.

He sniffed, loudly, and through his tears, managed to say, "And Konohamaru?" 

He looked up at Naruto, who had no words to say, and no consolation to offer any longer. He was in silent tears himself, and was so choked with them, his voice had been drowned.

"I'm sorry!" he cried at last, his voice ragged, as if it had been dragged over a bed of nails. "I'm so sorry, Iruka!"

The blond scrubbed at his eyes, and then, took a deep, shaky breath. "Konohamaru. . .He died on the operating table. There was glass, inside his head, and. . ."

Iruka shook his head. "Don't say any more."

"Iruka," Naruto started.

"Shh. Not a word."

The blond obeyed and fell silent. He wrapped his arms about Iruka's neck, and nestled his head in the crook of the older man's shoulder. Iruka stroked the golden tresses lightly, and found them to be slightly comforting. Naruto was still here, and Naruto was still strong, like the sunshine outside the window.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Naruto had not wanted to leave Iruka there, in the hospital, but he'd been forced to obey the codes and rules of the establishment. Visiting hours were long past over when they'd finally asked him to leave. He'd gone, rather quietly for who he was, and he'd left Iruka there, in the darkness, in sorrow.

He managed to catch a ride on one of the city buses, and he went from one end of town to the other, watching the lamp lights flicker by, and then be swallowed up by dark again. It was like the endless cycle of day and night. The day broke with new light and was just as quickly replaced with shadows. Then, the day broke again, with the same brilliance. It made him feel dreadful inside to think that time went on forever like this, even when Konohamaru and Kakashi were gone. The same would happen when he passed on. He couldn't even begin to contemplate dying.

He shivered despite the fact that the heater was on, and the vehicle warm. He wrapped his arms about himself, and tried to stave off the bitter chill of his thoughts. In his mind, death was dark, cold and dreary. It had to be, because life was bright, warm and vibrant. At least, life was like that most of the time.

He got off at his stop, and walked the rest of the way to Sasuke's house. Iruka had made him promise not to spend the night alone. Naruto didn't know if he would be able to handle going home until Iruka was back. The big house would be too quiet, and empty. Every crack of the floorboards would be too loud and remind him that death had visited. 

The door was unlocked. There were lights on in the house, and it reminded him that people lived here. He didn't bother to knock. He simply breezed right into the house. He took off his shoes at the front door, and shut out the night behind him.

Sasuke had been waiting for him. The other boy made that fairly obvious with how readily he got up, and sauntered toward the door, though he tried to hide it. Naruto didn't say anything. Nor did Granny Uchiha, who had been sitting on the sofa with her great-grandson, though it was clear by the way her eyes darted in their direction that she wanted to. 

"Would you like some dinner?" Sasuke asked, jamming his hands into his pockets.

Naruto shook his head, and hung up his coat in the closet. "No thanks," he mumbled. "I'm not really that hungry."

He brushed by the other boy, and went upstairs. He wanted to be alone right then, but he couldn't be because this was not his home. He heard Sasuke following him.

He paid no heed. He went into Sasuke's bedroom, finding it the next best thing to his own room, and a sort of cold comfort. At least everything here was familiar.

The door shut now, clicking and locking, and all the light was blocked out of the room, except for the sliver where it crept between the door and the floor. The mattress springs squeaked when Sasuke sat down on the bed.

"What happened?" he asked.

He reached out to touch the blond's hair, to pet him, but Naruto jerked viciously away. He wasn't going to show Sasuke how weak he was. He didn't need to be coddled, and tonight, stroking his hair was strictly reserved for Iruka.

He shrugged, and remained silent, looking into the shadows, trying to discern black from black. Sasuke reached out for him again, and again, he tugged away. "Is Iruka-sensei okay?" the dark-haired boy asked him.

"Yes," Naruto mumbled, burying his head in the covers. "Just a few bruises and such."

"Kakashi-sensei?"   
Naruto bit his lip. "He's dead."

That statement shut Sasuke up, but only for a second or two. "Konohamaru?" came the voice, almost timidly. That was nonsense. Sasuke was afraid of nothing.

"Dead too," Naruto replied, steeling his voice, trying to keep it cold.

Sasuke was silent. Neither one of them had anything to say for what seemed like eternity. Naruto watched the shadows play across the walls, and he felt tears prick at his eyes. Tonight seemed too dark to be real, as if the world would never light up again.

"Naruto. . ."

Sasuke was hesitant about the move he made next, but he made it anyway, only to be swatted away like a fly. Naruto grumbled. He didn't want pity. He didn't want sympathy. He didn't even want affection. He wanted to beat something up. Why the hell was everything so unfair! 

"Leave me alone," he muttered, turning over and drawing the tangled blankets about himself. He struggled to hold back a sob. 

Sasuke chewed his lip, watching Naruto struggle with the demons of life and death. He wanted to help, but how could he? He was still fighting to accept the truths and realities he'd been given as an eight-year old boy. He offered no solace. He wasn't an example of how you could win over the demons, of how you could defeat them and triumph.

"Naruto," he said, and tried to touch the other boy again.

"Fuck off, Sasuke!" the blond yelled, sitting up suddenly, nearly catching the older boy in the face with his foot. "I don't want to talk about it!"

He glared at Sasuke. "And don't you dare tell me that I should talk about it! You never talk about your problems!"

Sasuke scowled, but said nothing. If there was one thing he hated, it was being criticized about keeping quiet. So what if he liked to keep himself and his emotions confined to four walls? He was safer this way. Nobody was supposed to be able to pick him apart if he didn't say anything.

"If you talk, I'll listen," he muttered at last, the words coming out as more of a threat than a promise. 

Naruto snorted. "That's the way it's always worked. I talk, talk, talk and never shut up, and you never, ever open up! I feel like I don't even know you!"

Naruto turned his back on the older boy, huffing and crossing his arms. He caught a glimpse of Sasuke's expression just before he faced the shadows again, and he felt a self-satisfied smirk creep over his lips and force them up. 

Sasuke looked a bit like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. His face was tense, and his lips were drawn tightly together, making them appear thinner than they were. "You're right," he said finally. "You don't know me."

"And if I don't know you, how can you know me?" Naruto grumbled, not daring to turn around now.

"Naruto," Sasuke started, in that chiding tone of his that Naruto had come to despise.

He whipped around again, jabbing his finger into Sasuke's face. "No! Don't you even start with me! You don't know me, so how can you pretend to understand me! You don't even know what it's like to be alone!"

Sasuke's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I don't know?" he asked.

Naruto didn't back down. "You're always prancing about saying, 'Leave me alone, leave me alone!' You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what it was like!" 

"Maybe you wouldn't seek affection like you do, you moron, if you knew that people are just out to hurt you!"

They scuffled, for a bit, yelling and trying to prove that their situation was worse than the other's, until Naruto hollered, "You don't know what it's like to lose everything you ever had!"

Sasuke stopped dead at that, and backed off, slinking away into the shadows to brood. Naruto sat up, shaking out his hair, smirking, despite his black eye. He'd hit a nerve and he knew it. Silence pervaded the room.

When Sasuke's voice cut through the darkness, it was almost as thick and heavy as the shadows in Naruto's mind. "My parents. . ."

The wound was open fresh now, and Naruto could see Sasuke's back turned to him, hunched slightly, indicating Sasuke's desire to escape the world right then. Naruto tried to think of something to say, but any sympathy he had was all dried up. 

Sasuke didn't say anything more, and they sat in the shadows for such a long, long time.

- - - - - - - - - - 

Sasuke remembered standing out in the cold, in the snow. He remembered standing there, in his short-sleeved pyjamas and just watching, waiting, with eyes half-filled with tears for someone to tell him this was all a joke. He waited for the car to come up the road in the snowy night, and turn into the driveway. He waited for his parents to come back.

The shadows died away, and the dawn came creeping. An eternity had passed, to an eight-year-old at least, and when Sasuke dragged himself inside the house, cold, hungry and tired, he was something else.

He had caught a terrible cold, but it had been worth it.

He was through with waiting now. He had realized, standing out there in the cold, that he had been waiting all his life. When he asked Itachi to help him with his homework, or to play a game with him like the elder brothers' of his friends did, the answer was always, "Later." And he had waited for this elusive 'later' to come.

He had waited for his parents, all the time, to recognize that he had done well on his report card, by his own standards, or that he had achieved a good grade on the test. When he played any sport, he always waited for them to tell him he had done a good job, scoring the winning goal like he always did.

Instead, all he had ever garnered was a long suffering sigh, and a defeated comment that usually stung his ears. "Why can't you be like your brother?"

He had never been much like Itachi. He had been loud, whining and attention-seeking. He had clung to his mother's skirt, and he hid from relatives, until he thought he could impress them by doing something better than Itachi, or something special. But as his father had always said of him, his only specialty was making a nuisance of himself.

He waited so long for them to recognize him. But as he stood there, in the night, forgotten and waiting, he realized that they never would recognize him, just like they never were coming home. And he was through waiting for them.

He was still waiting for them, in a way. He never opened up to people, and he never stopped striving to be just like Itachi. He was always trying, so very hard, to impress them, even though they would never see him. He still struggled to be something he could never be, all for corpses.

His blood relatives forsook him, and left him to Itachi, who still replied only, "Later." He'd learned by now that "later" would never come. All people were to him were pain and misery, self-absorbed and arrogant, and so, he showed them just how they were, and became them. When he made someone feel inferior, or when he ignored someone and it made them mad, he had won the game. He had made them feel just how he felt inside.

He had been alone, no matter what Naruto thought. He knew what it was like, but he had been on the other side of the fence too. Parents were supposed to love their children no matter what. He'd been left with a choice: to be alone, and unhurt, or to try and loan what he could to people who did not care a scrap for him. He chose to stand alone, because that was what Itachi did. Itachi was always right.  
Sasuke remembered all of that, as he sat there in the shadows and nursed unhealed wounds. He didn't know if Naruto was still awake at this point, so he addressed the darkness instead. "I want out," he said.

Naruto was still awake, and he showed it now by stirring, slightly. "Out?" he asked, his voice groggy and sleep-smeared.

Sasuke said nothing, and the shadows all around him seemed to stir to life, as Naruto sat up. "I want out," he repeated, his voice falling to a softer pitch, because he'd woken the shadows, and disturbed the darkness.

"You want out," Naruto repeated, brazenly, obviously not catching their meaning.

There was a pause. "Out of what?"

The shadows stopped. Sasuke didn't feel hidden in them any longer, but so exposed. Naruto was looking right at him, his eyes piercing and too bright in that impenetrable darkness. "I want out of this. Out of you and me."

It took Naruto what seemed like more than a minute to understand, and he said, "Oh," in a winded way when he did.

The bed springs squeaked and Naruto got up, slowly, so that the bed covers shifted, and the sheets came with him. "You want out."

Sasuke didn't bother to nod, or to reaffirm the statement. Instead, he looked at the floor. He watched Naruto's feet come toward him, slowly, steadily, and increasingly unsure of where to fall.

"It's over then," was the blond's next statement, and it was not a question.

The footsteps were sure again, and Naruto was gone, closing the door behind him.

- - - - - - - - -

Naruto didn't expect anyone to be up when he went to leave the house. He expected to slip off into the night and be done with it, just like that. Things would go back to the way they always had been. He would hate Sasuke, and Sasuke would go right on being perfect and acting better than everyone else.

He was, instead, apprehended, by the old Uchiha woman. She was standing at the bottom of the stairs, glaring up at him in that especially creepy way that Uchihas seem to have. "Where do you think you're going, young man?" she asked.  
Her voice sounded frail, and thin in the night. It was a weary voice, one that was tired. She was old, older now in the night it seemed and she trembled with her age, walking bent under the weight of many long years.

She stood firm, however, without her cane now and she looked up at him. Her eyes were sunken deep into her wrinkled face. Her lips were drawn in a thin line, and she looked so severe, so like Sasuke, that she scared him. 

"I'm going home," he said, trying not to let any sort of apprehension seep into his voice.

She caught the tiniest note in his tone, and set on him like a rabid dog. "What did you say to him?" she asked, her voice wicked and sharp now.

He bristled. Sasuke had wanted to break up, and now, this old bat was accusing him of being the perpetrator? He snarled. "It wasn't me. It was that bastard."

He stalked down the stairs, past her, and was just about to the door when she spoke again. "You know, he's just scared."

Naruto stopped, then sneered, "So what? He can be scared, for all I care."

The old woman sighed. "He's been waiting for someone to do what you've done for a long time now, Naruto."

The blond sneered. "Oh yeah? And you know how? You've been here, what? Three months. And you act like you know everything about him."

The old woman turned about now. "Sasuke's very easy to read. Or was. He was always trying to impress everyone."

She sighed again. "Most people just ignored him. Some of them told him he was a screw up." 

Naruto was thoughtful, but only for a split second. "You're head of the clan. Why didn't you do something then?"

She shook her head. "I wasn't head of the clan, then. Sasuke's father was. He was always too preoccupied with Itachi. Itachi is the heir, after all. Sasuke didn't matter."

Silence fell between them. At long last, Naruto mumbled, "What has he been waiting for?"

The old woman shrugged. "Someone to think highly of him. Someone to hate him for being better than they are." 

She hobbled off then, ignoring him as she went. She obviously had been up on some late night venture, rather than simply waiting to apprehend him should he try to leave via the stairs.  
Naruto scowled and stuffed his feet into his shoes. He grabbed his coat from the closet and left.

He had to walk all the way home, because the buses had stopped running by the time he left. He didn't mind. The cold air chilled him to the bone, and made him icy. He kept his hands buried in his pockets, and he glared at the ground.

So, Sasuke had a superiority complex. Well, who was he to care? He wasn't going to play second fiddle to Sasuke, just so the jerk's head could swell up and he could believe he was cool. Naruto was not one to be pinned down by other people's whims.

He kicked at a rock on the ground. "This day sucks," he grunted, watching the rock start to roll down the hill he was walking down.

He'd go home, and sleep. Tomorrow would be a better day. Tomorrow, he would go see Iruka and. . .

"Fuck," he muttered, and scrubbed at his eyes. There was no use crying now.

He kept walking. He didn't dare look back.

- - - - - - - - - 

Naruto had been gone for a long while, and Sasuke didn't mind. He was alone, at last, and he sat, turning the golden band he'd been given over and over in between his thumb and forefinger. The wane light that filtered in through his curtains from outside made it flash and glitter.

Presently, there was a knock at his door, and before he could say anything, his great-grandmother hobbled into the room. "Uchiha Sasuke," she said, "You have made an idiot of yourself."

He looked at her in confusion, and let his eyes drift back to the ring. The old woman blinked, then frowned. "It's even worse than I imagined," she muttered, and shut the door behind her.

She sat down on the bed beside her great-grandson. "I hope you didn't mean to say whatever it was you said to your boy toy," she said.

Sasuke coloured. "Gran," he grumbled, nearly dropping the ring.

Naruto was his 'boy toy'?

The old woman shook her head. "You wanted someone to pay attention to you, and he gave you that. You still bucked him. You really are stupid."

He didn't say anything. She stood up. "I do hope you do what's right for you," she said.  
Then she was gone and the door was shut. He sighed heavily, and threw the ring to the bed. "I did," he muttered. "But I'm not sure I did what's right for us."

- - - - - - - - -

Ino glared at the battered apartment door. She scowled at it. Nothing changed however. The door was still battered and worn, and still highly inanimate. She knocked at it, with all the fury she could muster.

The hallway smelled strange, almost as if it were damp, or rotting. She felt choked by the scent, but she knew, once she was inside that apartment, she would need all the air she could get. The door remained steadily shut.

She wanted to know what the hell Temari had been doing with Sakura. Wasn't Temari with her? Honestly, the older girl made little to no sense at the best of times, and now . . .she was acting beyond nonsensical.

"Open up!" the blonde girl hollered, knocking on the door again.

The door pulled back as she drew her hand away and she found herself staring into green eyes. She blinked. "Sakura?" she asked, summoning the nastiest tone she could, to avoid letting Sakura in on her surprise.

"Ino?" the pink-haired girl said, quickly turning to the side, and snarling, "What do you want?"

"Where's Temari?" Ino barked, putting her hands on her hips. She wasn't going to take lip from Sakura, of all people!

"Right here," called a voice, and then, Temari was in the room, dressed only in her nightie. Ino took a second to notice that Sakura was wearing a pair of panties and a too-small t-shirt.

The older blonde girl pushed Sakura back into the apartment and leaned precariously out of the doorway, smirking at Ino. "Hello there, Ino-dear. Is there something the matter?" she asked, her tone too devious for her innocent seeming words.

Ino boiled. "Damn right there's something wrong, you bitch!"

Temari raised an eyebrow, but that was the only indication that Ino's choice of words offended her. "And what do you have a problem with, Ino-dear?" she said, her voice becoming sickly sweet and even more dangerous.

She dug her nails into the doorframe. She waited for Ino to rant, to rave, or to just explode and start screaming. It was only to see fireworks like that, that Temari did what she did. But Ino didn't go off in fireworks.  
The younger blonde's eyes narrowed and she hissed, "You know damn well what the problem is Temari. Now, tell me why."

Temari blinked, and pulled back at bit. Ino was staying calm. Perhaps she hadn't calculated the girl as well as she'd thought? She frowned. "Why should I tell you?" she asked, taking a step backward, nudging Sakura's ankle with her own .

The pink-haired girl watched the exchange between Ino and Temari with growing fear and fascination. Part of her wanted to run and hide, but part of her wanted to stay, and see. Why were they fighting? And Ino had asked why. She wanted to know why too.

"Why?" Ino said, and she sounded almost incredulous, as if she was on the verge of hysteria. "You should tell me because I'm your girlfriend, Temari! Isn't that a good enough reason for you?"

Temari regarded the other blonde coolly. "I never said you were my girlfriend, Ino-dear. Did I? I'm sorry to have given you that impression."

Ino stared at her. "Not your girlfriend?" she asked, in a sort of dumbstruck tone, like someone who had been hit.

Temari shook her head. "Not at all. You don't mean very much to me, Ino-dear. I'm sorry to tell you that."

Ino frowned. Her eyes narrowed and she looked, in general, as if a storm had broken out on her face and it swept over her now, in a whirlwind of jealousy and hate. "You whore," she spat, then whirled on her heel and walked away.

Temari looked at the floor for a moment or two, thoughtfully, before she retreated into her abode. The door clicked shut behind her.

Ino continued her final march down that hall, stomping her feet as hard as she could against the old floorboards. They creaked and groaned in protest, but she didn't care. She fought at her tears, so hard she almost choked on them. She closed her eyes tight, and then, she started to run.

She ran hard, and the faster she ran, the more she felt like screaming. She wanted to scream at the world.

She didn't know where the need to scream, or the need to run came from. She didn't care about Temari, but now, she had no one.

She was mad. She hated the world. She hated losing, and she had lost badly this time. The stairs gave way beneath her feet, and things flew by in a flash. All at once, she was at the bottom, she was through the door, and then, she was outside, in the night.  
She screamed. She screamed at last, long and loud, and she let the world hear her anger. She howled for a little while, at the moon and the stars, but they paid her no heed. Finally, breathless and with her throat ragged and hoarse, she abandoned her screaming, and sobbed.

She didn't dare stop walking though, and she kept struggling to hold herself in check. She tried to piece herself back together as she went, but she kept breaking down. She kept flicking off her tears with her fingers, and scrubbing her cheeks with her forearm. But the tears still came. 

Back in the apartment, Temari was brooding. Sakura could say nothing to her, and had retreated, only a few minutes ago to the bedroom, possibly to find her clothes. Kankuro was lurking somewhere in the shadows, knowing better than to approach his sister after a show like that.

The blonde girl sat on the sofa, chewing furiously at a piece of gum, grinding it between her teeth. She liked to do that when she was angry. She turned on the television, and mindlessly, found some horrible movie on one of the late night channels.

She stared at the movie blankly, more concerned with her thoughts, her actions and her new plan. As the film rolled its credits, a smirk spread across the girl's face. She knew just what she would do next in this little soap opera of hers.

From his hiding place, Kankuro saw that smirk and scurried off to hide. Temari had an idea.

- - - - - - - - -


	37. Side Dish

(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Please remember, if you're reading, review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters. Special thanks to Ruby Love, who originally beta'ed this chapter.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 37: Side Dish

School was a harrowing ordeal from that point on. Sasuke made a point of not speaking to Naruto, and Naruto ignored Sasuke. One of their teachers had made the mistake of putting them in the same group. Nothing had been accomplished in that group, except a lot of hostile silence, and heated glaring. The teacher had quickly separated them.

Naruto kept telling himself that he didn't care what the bastard did. Sasuke could jump off a cliff, Sasuke could go bungee-jumping without the cord, Sasuke could go whore himself out to random, sleazy homosexual and bisexual men, and Naruto would not give a damn or bat an eye.

Except that he would. He knew it, and it drove him crazy. It distracted him, because he was frustrated and annoyed with the fact that he would care what Sasuke did, no matter what happened. 

As a result of his distraction, his grades had been slipping, not that it really was anything new. His grades had been crappy before. Being with Sasuke had some perks, he had to admit, such as being allowed to copy the other teen's homework. Right now, he was sitting in the library, after having been kicked out of class for causing disruptions. He had returned to his old ways in less than a split second and now, every time a teacher turned around, he was making faces, cracking jokes, throwing paper aeroplanes and other objects around the room. Surprisingly, nobody paid any heed to anything he did, except the teacher, who merely chucked him out of the room and gave him detentions. Somehow, he'd gone back to being the invisible boy again.

He growled and glared at his messy handwriting. It was illegible, for the most part, and the words he could read were disjointed, and made no sense to him. It was the storm of his emotions, recreated on paper, with words, and it described perfectly, in a visual way, how he felt inside. The words just couldn't dig deep enough to unearth him.

He was so frustrated, and fed up with everything. He had made progress in the social world. He had elevated himself to a point where he no longer needed to pull pranks to get the attention he'd desperately wanted. At least, that was what he'd liked to think he'd done in the time he'd been with Sasuke. Apparently, it hadn't happened, and Sasuke was merely a pedestal for him to stand on. When his pedestal was removed, he came crashing back to the ground. It bruised him.

Iruka thought he was just upset about the results of the car accident. In part, that was some of his problem. There had been little closure, little time to say goodbye, and it had happened so suddenly that it left him dumbfounded and awestruck. It made his mind numb and baffled his heart into skipping beats at random intervals. He had even started to philosophize about things. Was he really living, or was he dead now, as he sat there, and he was waiting to start living? Were Kakashi and Konohamaru now living, and not dead? It was almost a comforting thought, but it wasn't the concepts of life and death that bothered him. It was the separation. He would no longer speak to Kakashi or Konohamaru. He would no longer see them, hear them, and so on and so forth. His senses were rendered useless against the dead and all he had left were memories.

Separation plagued him in his reality as well. Iruka had been closed off and almost unreachable for the past two weeks. Somehow, somewhere, he had lost a piece of his sanity, the piece of his heart he had given Kakashi for safe keeping, and he immersed himself in work the instant he was out of the hospital, fighting desperately to keep himself grounded in reality. He'd still been black and blue when he came back to work. 

When Iruka wasn't working, he was distant and reserved. He stared off into space for long periods of time, and Naruto was left alone in the realm of the living. There were walls between them now, where once, there had been none. There were walls of sorrow and fear to break them apart and keep them locked inside their own temples. Naruto wondered if Iruka was planning to follow Kakashi to the grave. Though it seemed selfish of the brunet to do, Naruto felt that he had all but forgotten the blond teenager that was still reliant on him, and looking to him for support.

Naruto's separation didn't stop there. He was separated from Sasuke now, though by choice, and with it, he had ostracized himself again from society. He was the outsider again. He was the child with no friends, the child he'd been all the way through grade school. He was the invisible boy again, the boy no one saw, and the boy no one wanted to see. He wished, some days, that he really was invisible, so that Iruka couldn't catch him skipping class. He would wander then, if no one could see him, through the crowds downtown at lunch hour and he would understand the wind at last. The wind was invisible and lonely, but it was a force to be reckoned with. Was that what Sasuke had aspired to become?

He had thought people had started to recognize him for who he was: not a bad person. He was a likeable person even. They had only recognized him because, somehow or other, Uchiha had taken an interest in him. Anything that was worth Sasuke's time must be something worthy of appraisal. Sasuke had no interest in him any more.

Faintly, the bell rang outside of him, but to him, it was just another buzzing noise inside the whirring and screaming of his inner self. It was like the final alarm, signalling a fire, or an air raid, that was about to turn him into ashes. He wondered how ashes felt, being so small and black, yet the bearers of so much evil, and so many memories. He wondered if ashes remembered that once upon a time, they had been something. He wondered if they cried because they had been something, and now, they were nothing, being whisked away on the wind.

He got up, slammed his book shut and stowed it away in his backpack. He slung his pack on his back and he fled the library. The weather had turned nice in the days and weeks since he'd become separated, and he liked to run home as fast as he could, so he could sit by the pond and watch the fish. His latest obsession was seeing how many times he could hit Sasuke the koi fish with a rock. He felt bad about trying to hit the fish - it had done nothing to him - but it was a painful reminder of everything that was Sasuke. It reminded him of all Sasuke's habitual behaviours, and it had been given to him by Sasuke.

His plans of fish-hunting were quickly spoiled, however, when he was apprehended in the hallway by the person he dreaded most. Sasuke stood in front of him, foreboding and dark, blocking Naruto's path. The blond fumed. Why did Sasuke have to be such a jerk?

"Here," the other teen said, bluntly, quickly, and it was the only thing he said.

He walked by Naruto, tossing something into the air as he went. Naruto scrambled to catch it, and when he opened his hand, he saw it was the ring he had bought Sasuke for Valentine's. He looked up from it and watched the other teen go down the hall until he couldn't see him any longer. Then, he turned and ran most of the way home.

He ditched his backpack and his shoes in the foyer, and he padded through the house. No one was home yet. The house was silent and empty. He shuddered. He ran outside, into the backyard. The screen door on the back of the house slammed shut angrily.

It had been a very lovely spring day. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and the wind wasn't very cool. The snow was gone, and the grass and the oak tree in the backyard were beginning to turn green again. The flowers Iruka had planted by the house last fall had started to come up and bloom. They were all sorts of vibrant shades. 

The fish were swimming gaily about in the pond, chasing each other all about. Their fins looked like ribbons, and 'round and 'round they went, in dizzy circles. Naruto thought he could hear them laughing, although fish were too stupid to laugh. He glared at them.

He noticed that he was still holding the ring in his hand, his fingers curled tightly against his palm, holding it there. He didn't want to let go of it. He had gone to great lengths to obtain that ring. He had stolen nearly three hundred dollars from Iruka. First, he had taken the change in the spare change pot, and then, he had scrounged to find the allowance that Iruka had given Konohamaru. Ironically enough, Konohamaru had no need of it now. 

Then, he had emptied the brunet's wallet of cash, and then, proceeded to steal the man's credit card. He knew he was going to be in a lot of trouble when Iruka discovered this, but the brunet teacher had been so distracted lately that he hadn't caught on. 

Naruto knew he should come clean and give the ring to Iruka so that he could return it to the store and get a refund. Part of him wanted to do that. He wanted to cry and say he was sorry and be told that all was forgiven. But part of him was so angry at Sasuke that he simply couldn't bring himself to do that. He knew he shouldn't let his emotions get the better of him, and he knew he shouldn't let Sasuke indirectly influence how much trouble he was going to be in, but damnit! He had to let go.  
He threw the ring into the pond, watching it send up a small fountain of water, and then, he watched as the fish scattered from it, scared by the new, strange object. He watched it sink slowly down to the bottom, and stay there. The fish crowded around it, inspecting it, timidly at first, and then, accepting it as part of their environment, and not dangerous. They flitted around it gleefully.

"Idiot fish," Naruto muttered angrily, glaring at them and their joyous play.

It was then that he noticed something small and black lurking in the grasses of the pond. He raised an eyebrow. "What the heck?" he muttered, and wandered off to find a stick.

He returned a moment later, and started poking at the grasses with his newly acquired instrument. There were more little black things, and they darted when he poked at the grasses. He kept poking, and the little black things kept darting. It took him a moment or two to realize that the black things were fish!

"Holy crap!" he yelled, and stumbled back from the pond.

There were baby fish in the pond! That meant that the fish had gone and. . . "Ew," he muttered. "No wonder they're so happy."

He sighed and decided that he would have to mention the baby fish to Iruka. He trudged back inside. The screen door slammed shut behind him. "Iruka!" he called.

There was no answer. He grumbled and trudged into the kitchen. He glanced at the clock as he passed by, noting that the teacher should have been home more than half an hour ago. He checked the foyer. Iruka's shoes were there, and the car was parked in the driveway. The brunet was home.

"Iruka!" he yelled again, louder this time.

There was a muffled reply from the upstairs. Naruto grumbled and stomped upstairs. "Iruka! Iruka, where are you?" he called to the empty upstairs hallway. 

"In here," the brunet replied, and opened the door to his bedroom. He looked grumpy.

"We have baby fish," he told his guardian.

Iruka raised an eyebrow. "Baby fish?" he asked.

Naruto nodded. "Yeah. Out in the pond."

Iruka frowned, then sighed. "Go fill the aquarium up with water Naruto. Catch as many of the baby fish as you can."  
"Why?" Naruto asked, clueless as ever.

Iruka paused, holding open the door to his room. "The adults will eat them if we leave them there." 

"They're cannibalistic!"

Iruka shut the door, and said through it, "Please go fill up the aquarium, Naruto." 

The blond sighed and trudged away. He went into the spare bedroom, where they kept the tank. He felt bad about being in there, because the room had belonged to Konohamaru. It was strange that the fish had bred this year. Normally, they didn't. Konohamaru had seemed to have an affinity for the fish, and Naruto wondered if it wasn't his doing, from beyond, that had caused the fish to act this way.

Or maybe it was just the fact that they'd never actually had a female fish in the pond before. Maybe the fish had spawned before, and just eaten all the baby fish before they could save them. He sighed, and shuddered, the room feeling colder than the rest of the house. "Konohamaru," he murmured, but there was no reply.

He shook of his foreboding and sadness, and he filled the tank up quickly. Then, he went downstairs to the kitchen and got a big plastic container. He filled it with water and he carried it outside to the pond.

He spent the better part of an hour trying to catch the damn baby fish. They were fast, they were hard to see, and the stupid adult fish kept getting in the way. At last, he gave the rest of the baby fish up for dead. If they wanted to be stubborn like that, they could die, for all he cared. In his opinion, it would be their own damn fault. They had the choice to join their brothers and sisters in his net and then, in the safety of the tank inside.

Once the fish were all happily inside the tank (well, maybe not so happily), Naruto counted them. He had saved eight baby fish from certain death. They swam around, and one of them stopped and looked at him. "Stupid fish," he muttered, tapping the glass and scaring it away.

Iruka walked into the room, drying his hair with a towel. He'd obviously just had a shower. "Are those the baby fish?" he asked, peering into the tank.

Naruto nodded. The fish kept swimming. They stood there for a moment, in the spare bedroom, watching the baby fish swim about. Iruka clapped Naruto on the back. "Let's go have dinner," he said quietly, and left the room.

Naruto couldn't say he blamed Iruka for wanting to leave the room. After all, it was just a spare room again, after it had been inhabited. The blond watched the fish swim about for a moment or two longer, before turning about and leaving.  
He went downstairs, and into the kitchen. Iruka had some pots and pans out and was whipping up one of his culinary miracles - something he hadn't done for months now. Naruto suspected it was because Kakashi had been such a fan of his cooking. Somehow, the teacher hadn't felt it was right to make a meal without Kakashi there to appreciate it.

Now, however, he was showing Naruto that the time was right to move on. It was time to move on, and mend broken fences, and break down fences that needed to be taken down altogether. It was a time to build new fences too, and just, generally, do the yard work they'd neglected for such a period of time.

Naruto sat down at the kitchen table, grinning dumbly to himself, as he began to think of ways to do his yard work. An evil idea began to take root and grow in his mind. His grin got a little larger. Iruka was giving him a strange look. It was one that said, "I don't know what you're up to, but stop grinning like that! You're scaring me." 

Naruto paid him no heed. He kept grinning. In a second, he'd decided what he was going to do. He bounded across the kitchen, and picked the phone up off its cradle. He dialled a number he hadn't dialled in months.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Sasuke hadn't been really pleased with what his break-up with Naruto had caused in the aftermath. Somehow, his fan club had unearthed the news and decided that it wasn't too late to 'redeem' him from a path of 'sexual immorality'. Apparently, they were still so hung up on him that they thought they could fix his sexual orientation. . . .Idiots.

How could they, screaming, hormonal, obsessive girls, hope to understand him? They somehow seemed to think he was looking for a trophy wife, a girl he could marry, settle down with, and have a family. They would live in a little house, with a white picket fence, and she would stay home and clean house, while baking cookies, raising children and doing laundry. He would go out and work, and come home and be a loving husband.

Che. . .they were all dreamers and they annoyed him to no end. Why did they seem to think he wanted someone to walk all over? He wanted someone who would fight him. He wanted someone to yell at him, disobey him and question him.

Actually, the only person he wanted was Naruto. But something dictated that he couldn't have Naruto. It wasn't an external force, or anything stupid like that. It wasn't family expectations, or societal expectations or peer pressure. It was an internal force. Something inside him said, "You can't have Naruto."

He didn't know why, but he just thought to himself, "You can't have Naruto." It had become truth to him. He couldn't have Naruto, and he wouldn't let himself have Naruto, for no reason at all.  
He made no sense sometimes, not even to himself.

"Sasuke! Telephone!" Orochimaru yelled at him from the ground floor.

The dark-haired teen sighed. He wasn't in a particularly good mood that day. He'd finally confronted Naruto, and his fears about confronting Naruto. He'd been planning on doing some explaining or something of that sort, with copious amounts of talking, just to prove that he could talk to Naruto and not beg the blond to take him back.

He'd gave up at the last second and backed out of his mental plan to prove that he was more mature and more independent that Naruto was. He'd only said one word in passing. He'd thrown the ring instead of depositing it directly into Naruto's hand. He'd walked away very quickly after that. He'd realized that he hadn't quite cut the strings that he wanted to cut. Instead, he'd merely frayed them with dull scissors. Now, he had to let go.

If the person on the telephone was one of his stalkers, he was going to kill something. He swore it on his surname. He stomped downstairs, a little thundercloud of anger and despair.

Orochimaru smiled sweetly and handed him the phone. Sasuke decided that he'd kill Orochimaru. He didn't care if Itachi decided to mangle him for it afterwards.

"Hello?" he barked into the phone, deciding to be blunt, rude and downright wrathful.

"Naruto and Sasuke had babies!" a cheerful, distinctly male voice chirped in his ear.

Sasuke's hand slipped off the table he was leaning on and he crashed to the floor. "What!" he shrieked, just barely registering that he was falling.

Naruto was cracking up on the other end of the phone and all that Sasuke could hear was his hysterical laughter. It sounded like nothing more than static. Sasuke's eye twitched. Naruto's laughing subsided just slightly.

"The fish, you moron," Naruto said, chuckling.

Sasuke's eye twitched some more. "You called me, to tell me that your fish had babies?" he growled, in an increasingly agitated tone.

"Yes," Naruto replied.

"Don't ever call me again!" Sasuke roared, then hung up the phone with a bang.

He stared at the phone for a moment or two, before he ran up the stairs at breakneck speed, nearly running over his brother in the process. Itachi barely lifted an eyebrow. "What the hell?" he said in a dead monotone.   
Orochimaru shrugged. "It was his ex on the phone," the golden-eyed teen said.

Itachi's eyebrow went just a smidgen higher. "They broke up?" he asked, his voice a monotone that was almost incredulous.

"Yes," Orochimaru said, his face going blank for a second. "While you were off in la-la-land with your friendly neighbourhood narcotics, Sasuke and Naruto broke up. For no particular reason."

"Oh," Itachi said. 

Orochimaru patted the younger teen's shoulder. "You see, Itachi my dear, drugs are very bad things. You miss important events, that you can gossip about with other people -"

"I hate gossip," Itachi returned with a mock-glare.

Orochimaru continued, oblivious. "And you can use those events to blackmail people with at later, undetermined dates."

"I don't use blackmail," Itachi said. "I'm intimidating enough without it." 

Orochimaru smiled sweetly and patted the younger teen on the back. "Of course you are, sweetie."

"Don't call me that."

"Yessir," Orochimaru said smartly, saluting. 

Itachi shook his head and continued downstairs, which was where he'd been going when his brother had apprehended him. Orochimaru trailed him downstairs. "By the way," he said, "where the hell are you going?"

"To the mailbox," Itachi replied, walking into the entry and putting on his shoes. 

Orochimaru followed his lead. "Are you expecting a package?" he asked.

"Yes," Itachi replied.

He walked outside into the early evening. Orochimaru followed him, like a lost puppy. Itachi's eyebrow twitched, but he didn't say anything. He really hated it when Orochimaru acted like he was a hopeless stalker. He liked Orochimaru because he was strong willed and generally didn't back down from a fight. Orochimaru could be annoying, but he was also a quirky person, and that intrigued Itachi. It was like a slap in the face and hearing someone say, "You don't have to be perfect, you know."  
"I hope you're not receiving mail-order drugs," Orochimaru quipped now.

"No," Itachi replied dully. "I'm waiting to see if I got anything from the universities I applied to."

A light bulb appeared to be turned on inside Orochimaru's head. "Ah, right! No doubt you got in! Who wouldn't want a genius like you at their school?" he practically gushed, reminding Itachi of a high school girl.

The older teen clasped his hands together, and wriggled his eyebrows, his face gaining a rather devious expression as he did so. Itachi sighed. Thankfully, Orochimaru knew enough to kill the high school girl appearance quickly.

He caught up with Itachi, who had kept moving while he'd paused. "So, you applied for what again?" 

"Psychology."

"Ah, ah! That's right. Only psychotic people make good psychiatrists. Like. . .what's his face. Freud! He was King of the Crazy Mofos, you know!"

"I'm sure he was," Itachi replied calmly, stopping in front of the mailbox.

He inserted the key in the slot, and opened the little box up, retrieving the contents. Orochimaru started whistling, and rocking on his heels. He was looking skywards. Itachi shut the mailbox and locked it again. "Okay," he said, rounding on his boyfriend. "What is it?"

Orochimaru pretended to look innocent. However, whistling and rocking back and forth on his heels was something he did only when he had something important to tell somebody. "What?" he asked, blinking and pointing at himself. "Me?"

Itachi glared. "Don't play dumb. Tell me what you did."

Orochimaru whistled a couple more notes, before quickly saying, "I got my license."

Itachi stared blankly, then coughed discreetly. "They're going to let you drive?" he asked, giving Orochimaru the most incredulous look. 

The older teen grinned deviously. "I was wondering if you'd like to get away from here this weekend."

Itachi shrugged. "With what mode of transportation?" he asked, flipping through his mail.

"My newly acquired motorcycle," Orochimaru replied.  
Itachi raised a sceptical eyebrow, which was just barely visible over the top of the envelope he was reading. "Oh, really? And how did you acquire said motorcycle?"

"Auto. The teacher was looking for things we could bring in to fix up. A couple of people had already brought in cars - real junkers - and so I brought that in and we fixed it up."

He wrapped an arm about Itachi's shoulder suddenly, drawing the smaller boy to him. "It runs so smoothly! We'll ride along, under the open sky, with the wind in our hair-"

"I see why you failed English," Itachi said sardonically, removing himself from his boyfriend's grasp.

He turned about and started walking back to the house. The night time air was still just a little too chilly for him. It wasn't that he couldn't stand the cold. He could have stood there all night if he had to. It was that he didn't like the cold. There was nothing holding him there, so he slunk back into the house, where it was warmer.

Orochimaru followed him, continuing his puppy act. "What do you think, my darling weasel?"

"Don't call me that," Itachi called back.

The older teen ran up beside him. "Come on, it'll be fun! Just you and me, on the road. We could go where ever we wanted to! Suna-"

"Sand. Yuck." 

"Kiri?"

"Rain makes my hair frizz."

"Uh," Orochimaru said, thinking about other places they could travel to. "Iwa?"

"What's interesting about rocks?"

"Nothing really," he mused, frowning. "Come on! We'll just go somewhere, okay?"

"Whatever," Itachi muttered.

"That's the closest thing to a yes I'm going to get, isn't it?" 

"Probably."

Orochimaru grinned. "Okay. So Kiri it is."  
The door slammed shut in his face.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Sakura glared at Ino. Ino glared at Sakura. Nothing had been resolved between the two, but somehow, they had fallen into their old steps. They were rivals again. They had started as best friends, and somehow they had become rivals for Sasuke. Then, they had been lovers. Now, they were rivals again.

Sasuke was single again, and they had both rejoined the leagues of his followers with some sort of possessive fever. They were trying their very best to outdo the other, to show the other girl up. The depth of their fight was so dramatic that they scared even the other obsessive stalkers. They ignored the horrified stares they earned as they charged up and down the school halls, ripping notes from their own lockers from the other girl, and tearing banners and flowers and other such affections from Sasuke's locker.

In reality, they weren't actually trying to win Sasuke any longer. It was a strange sort of truth, neither girl was attracted to the Uchiha boy any longer. They might have made a big show about loving him, and a big fuss over him when he was around, but he was a case of out of sight, out of mind for both of them.

They were actually fighting over Temari. Sakura wasn't fighting by choice, but by dogmatic belief. If Temari had been god, then Sakura would have been some sort of enlightened, chosen being. Temari had chosen Sakura. There had to be some sort of symbolic meaning to that.

Ino, on the other hand, had been chosen first. She had been discarded, however, for Sakura, and now, she was jealous. She had never thought the day would come when she was jealous of Sakura. Then again, the girl did have a knack for taking away what she wanted.

They hid the real meaning of their fight, and they had agreed, with some unspoken words, that they would not bring up Temari or the fact that she was the real reason they were fighting. They would pretend that it was just like the old days, when they had fought tooth and claw over Sasuke.

These weren't the old days, though. They were really fighting now, and no longer the best-friends-yet-rivals they had been when they'd first entered high school. They were now bitter enemies. This would be a fight to the death.

Neither of them had seen hide nor hair of Temari for months. They had both tried showing up at her apartment at different, random intervals of the day, on different days. Occasionally, they met each other, but neither of them ever saw Temari. They had tried paging her, e-mailing her and phoning her, but she was never home and she never returned messages.

Now, here she was, in all her glory. She had sunglasses on her face, and she was wearing a light cotton dress. Someone was walking with her. Ino and Sakura abruptly stopped their arguing over who loved Sasuke more, to look at the blonde woman who had invaded their school.

She didn't even look at them when she walked by. Instead, she turned her head pointedly to the side, talking to the red-headed boy beside her. Sakura recognized him as Gaara, and she blinked in shock. Just like that, Temari was gone again. They stood there, and watched her go, standing beside each other, both suffering some form of heartbreak. They glanced at each other and turned aside with an angry huff. There was no way either girl would be the first to break. Sakura would not yield to Ino, and Ino would not yield to Sakura.

Shikamaru thought their petty rivalry was incredibly troublesome and he left them there, and headed outside. Choji followed him, snacking on some chips, and ranting about how Shikamaru had promised to take him to the Korean All-You-Can-Eat buffet later that week. The lazy boy had waved his hand, dismissing the topic and acknowledging it all at once.

He stood outside for a little while, with Choji, who apparently had nothing better to do. Shikamaru did have places to go, but it was terribly troublesome to lie to Choji. The brunet boy was his best friend, and sooner or later, he would find out. At last, Choji realized he was late for his music lessons, and scurried off in the direction of home, still munching on his chips. Shikamaru sighed, and wondered if Choji had ever been seen without junk food in his hand. He doubted it. He was beginning to believe the Akimichi boy had been born with a bag of potato chips in hand.

Shikamaru shook his head. It was troublesome to think about stupid things like that. He had other things to attend to, which were equally as irritating. This particular thing he had to attend to was like the shougi lessons he'd taken when he was younger. While he enjoyed playing shougi, he found it incredibly troublesome to drag himself to the lessons, to play against the teacher, and to listen to the teacher, and then, to play against amateurs. Amateurs who had no idea what they were doing were terribly troublesome.

He walked for a little bit, and he turned onto one of the residential streets that weren't far from the school. He was late, and he knew it. He sighed and walked toward the other boy. This was going to be troublesome.

"You're late," Hyuuga Neji pointed out.

"Yes," Shikamaru said flatly. "Choji is very troublesome. And so is being on time." 

Neji raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?" he asked, managing to sound not at all interested in Shikamaru's excuses.

Shikamaru would have smirked. But that was something only geniuses who had the time to think they were good did. It was too much work, keeping up an appearance like Neji or Sasuke. So, his expression stayed dead and bored.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -  
Naruto was surprised to find Sasuke standing outside his door at quarter to twelve that night. The Uchiha boy was standing there, in a t-shirt and shorts, rubbing his arms to fend off the chilly night.

They stared at each other. After nearly two months of not talking, it was a little awkward to try and find something to say to each other. So, they simply stared at each other, at a complete loss for what to say. They studied each other, noticing how much more mature the other looked, and how tired he looked.

The words came in a sudden flood, and they were both speaking at once, with too much to say. "I'm sorry," they both said at once, and they thought that was a little stupid and cliched.

"Hi," Naruto said, finally, shaking himself from his stupor. "Would you like to come it?"

"Hi," Sasuke returned. "Sure."

Naruto stepped aside and Sasuke stepped, almost timidly, into the house. Naruto shut the door behind him. He followed the other teen into the kitchen. "How have you been?" he asked, stupidly.

Sasuke shrugged, noncommittal. "How have you been?" he asked.

Naruto made a face that indicated he hadn't been well, but he hadn't been terrible either. They sat down at the table together, and they were silent. Each one sorted out his own thoughts. "So," Naruto said at last, drumming his fingers on the table.

Sasuke didn't say anything much. He stared at the worn wood of the table. Naruto was starting to get annoyed with him. Sasuke didn't expect him to start the conversation, did he? If he thought Naruto was going to do any of the talking while he listened, he was going to get a rather nasty surprise.

Naruto knew when to shut up. He could hold his tongue when he really tried, when he really wanted to and now was one of those times. The silence drew out, growing longer, and longer, and longer. It was like drawing a line on a piece of paper that just kept unfolding.

Sasuke kept glancing up at him, as if he was nervous about something. He stood up, slowly, muttering to Naruto, "Can we go outside?"

The blond shrugged, and followed him, maintaining his silence all the way. They went outside and stood on the tarmac of the driveway. Naruto tapped his foot now, instead of his fingers. Sasuke fumbled with something in his pockets, and then, turned away from Naruto a bit, lighting a cigarette and taking a long, deep drag of it. Naruto raised an eyebrow. This must have been a recent development.  
Sasuke turned back to face him, flicking ashes from the end of the cigarette. "You're making me uncomfortable," he said at last, giving Naruto a rather half-hearted glare.

Naruto's silence shattered into a million pieces. "I'm making you uncomfortable!" he screeched. 

Sasuke looked at the ground. "I'm trying to gather my thoughts. It's very difficult to do, especially with a dunce like you looking at me like that."

Naruto huffed and turned about. "There! I'm not looking at you! Now, go sort yourself out somewhere that isn't my driveway, you prick!"

Sasuke sighed. "Don't piss me off," he hissed.

"Maybe you should take your own advice," Naruto shot back, staying turned about and resisting the urge to turn around and tackle the other boy. 

The Uchiha boy rolled his eyes, though Naruto couldn't see him. "Look," he said, drawing on his smoke again, "I came here to. . .talk to you, but you're acting like a three year old. We'll talk when you mature a bit."

He turned around and started to walk away. He was yanked backwards so viciously that he nearly fell down. He whipped around and was met with Naruto's snarling face. The blond looked like some sort of explosion had just gone off. 

"You had better start talking, Uchiha," he snarled.

"Is that a threat?" Sasuke asked.

Naruto said nothing. He waited for Sasuke to talk. The dark-haired boy sighed, and tried to wiggle his fingers. Naruto had a rather bone-crushing grip on his wrist. "Fine," he grumbled.

He opened his mouth to speak, but he was yanked forward, against the shorter boy, who crushed their mouths together, in a very aggressive way. Sasuke swore he heard his nose crack under the pressure of their faces meeting.

They pulled apart, and Sasuke used his free hand to clutch at his nose, which was dripping blood. "What the hell?" he said, in a calm voice.

He wasn't all too surprised, really. He didn't know why he wasn't. It just had seemed. . .like something Naruto would do. It had seemed natural for Naruto to be clumsy, yet aggressive and angry, and it had seemed natural for Naruto to kiss him. It didn't really matter why it was natural.

Naruto muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Fucking pretty bastard," and offered Sasuke a rather crumpled tissue he'd found in his pocket. The older teen accepted, without really thinking about it. They sat down on the front step together.

Naruto was holding his head in his hands. "Why did you come here?" he asked, keeping his expression hidden from Sasuke.

The Uchiha teen shrugged. "I. . .think I wanted to. . .apologize," he muttered, listening to how funny his voice sounded. He wondered if his nose was swollen, or broken. It was bleeding quite a bit.

Naruto said nothing, leaving Sasuke room to pour his thoughts out to the empty sky. He moved the tissue, and resettled it on his nose. "I. . .was a jackass," he muttered.

"You always are," Naruto offered, introspectively.

Sasuke glared. "I really. . .went off the deep end. And I shouldn't have."

Naruto shrugged. "I was being an ass too," he admitted.

He still didn't look at Sasuke. The dark-haired Uchiha settled his gaze on the ground, watching the blood drip out of his nose, miss the tissue and splatter across the pale cement. They sat there, in silence, though it was a far more comfortable silence than the one they'd shared in the kitchen.

"I'm forgiven?" Sasuke asked, after a little while.

"No," Naruto replied. Sasuke blinked, but didn't say anything. He looked at the ground again.

"I'm going to be independent," Naruto said at length.

Sasuke looked at him, as if he may have sprouted wings and proclaimed to be an angel. "What do you mean?" he asked, slowly, unsure of the answer and of Naruto's current mental state.

"I mean that I'm not going to piggyback on your popularity to fit in with people. If they can't like me for me, why should they like me for you?"

Sasuke tried to understand the sense behind that, but couldn't quite grasp it. Maybe it was blood loss. Maybe he didn't understand because he had never been the outsider when he had wanted to be. People just seemed to like him, no matter what he did.

"Then it's over for good?" he asked, hating how he sounded small and insecure.

"No," the blond replied, tartly. "On the side. And nobody knows."

"On the side," Sasuke repeated, slowly. "Then what's your main course?"  
"Making a nuisance of myself."

"And I'll keep being a prick," Sasuke stated.

"Exactly," the blond exclaimed with some sort of pseudo satisfaction, turning to Sasuke with a huge smile plastered all over his face.

"You know, you're an ass because you're a genius, but that's why I love you," Naruto said, before crushing Sasuke in something that might have passed for a hug between bears.

Somehow, he really didn't mind, though he acted embarrassed, and pushed himself away from Naruto, sulking about how Naruto was trying to kill him. Underneath the act, he was really glad that Naruto was willing to have him back. If he could have, he might have purred like a kitten, but that would have ruined his 'cool exterior' facade.

"You're getting blood all over your shorts," Naruto stated, pointing.

Sasuke glanced down, which put more blood on his shorts. Naruto gave him a hand, and helped him up. "Let's see if we can get that nosebleed stopped. You can crash here, if you want."

"Sure," Sasuke mumbled, holding the blood-soaked tissue to his nose and letting Naruto lead him into the house.

- - - - - - - - -


	38. Extracurricular

(Author's Note: If you're reading, please remember to review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters. Special thanks to Ruby Love, who originally beta'ed this chapter.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 38: Extracurricular

If there was one thing Sasuke was good at (and he was good at everything), it was athletics. He really didn't like them though. He'd rather curl up with a good book but people kept dragging him out to these sporting events. He was thankful they never asked him to try out for football or rugby. He would have died.

Still, Naruto had dragged him to the wrestling club (which had ended with some rather compromising positions and several flustered boys). Sakura had dragged him to the gymnastics club (the fuck?) and Ino wanted him to join the yoga club (like hell!). One of his teachers had made him try out for the basketball team, but he'd been too short to be much good at that (thankfully).

Naruto was currently waving a flyer in his face. "We should play," he was saying.

Sasuke frowned, and scoffed. "Badminton? Are you any good? And what happened to not piggybacking on my stardom?"

Naruto waggled a finger in his face. "Hey! Hey! I said I wasn't going to piggyback on your social status! I never said anything about not piggybacking on you athletic ability."

"So, you're saying you're not any good."

Naruto huffed. "I can play badminton! And we're gonna play doubles, like it or not, bastard!" 

Naruto shoved another flyer in Sasuke's face. "And you're joining the soccer team, jerk."

"No," Sasuke replied. 

He was not joining the soccer team. That was Naruto's terrain. The blond would just get mad at him if he joined and outdid him. Sasuke wasn't sure if he could cope with a cuddling withdrawal (not that he would ever admit to being addicted to cuddling with Naruto).

"C'mon," Naruto whined, putting his puppy-dog-eyes on display.

Sasuke turned away in a huff. "No."

"Please, Sasuke. I'm begging you! We need you! We've lost most-"  
"All," Sasuke corrected.

Naruto grumped. "All of our games for the past two years! We need your help. . ."

Sasuke didn't bat an eyelash. "No."

"I need you. . ,"Naruto whined.

Sasuke grumbled. Naruto grinned. "Great! Practice starts today after school! See ya there!" 

Sasuke glared at the blond's retreating back, and then at the flyer Naruto had left in his care. He sighed. Itachi had been the star player of the school team, until he'd moved up in the grades and joined the senior team instead. The junior team didn't have a hope.

Nevertheless, he trudged out to the soccer field at 3:30 pm, frowning and hating Naruto. The blond had conveniently mentioned to Ino (who had mentioned to Sakura, who had mentioned to so-and-so. . .) that Sasuke was joining the soccer team. Ino and the rest of his fan club had come out to cheer him on.

Naruto was already on the field, with his uniform and his lucky number nine on his back. "Sasuke!" he screeched and glared.

Sasuke shrugged. He wasn't going to change. Who knew if the bloody uniforms were ever washed?

The soccer coach was Genma-sensei, one of the other gym teachers. He seemed calm and composed now, but Sasuke wondered what he'd been like a few weeks back. Even this couldn't be easy. Kakashi was supposed to coach the soccer team. A couple of other teachers were talking with Genma-sensei. Hayate-sensei kept coughing.

Sasuke went to stand beside Naruto. He closed his eyes. "I don't know how you talked me into this -"

"With my charm and sex appeal," Naruto sniggered.

Sasuke grit his teeth and resisted the urge to deck the blond. "I think this is a good opportunity to try and nail you in the balls with the soccer ball," he said, as Genma-sensei blew the whistle and signalled the start of the warm up.

Naruto stared at him, then growled.

They spent most of the practice trying to outdo each other. Sasuke was a natural and could easily outdo most of the team. Naruto was surprisingly agile and fleet, from practice no doubt. Sasuke nearly obtained his goal, however, but missed by about three inches, much to Naruto's relief.  
The day had been hot and everyone was sticky and sweaty by the end of practice. Naruto smacked Sasuke in the face with a towel. "Bastard," he growled, then stalked back toward the school.

Sasuke followed, mopping his face with the towel. That was probably Naruto's way of saying, "Good practice."

Sasuke had always hated the school showers. They seemed gross and grungy, but he couldn't imagine the walk home reeking like he did. The only time he could stand sweating was - Well, it was best not to go there, he thought, pulling his shirt over his head.

He had no qualms about stripping himself nude in front of fifteen other guys. He had nothing to be ashamed of. He was, however, a little apprehensive about stripping in front of Naruto. What would the blond do? Hopefully, nothing crude, but one could never predict Naruto. He glanced around now, and found that Naruto wasn't in the room.

He frowned and tugged his shirt back over his head. He went into the gym and found Naruto, helping the coach put away the equipment. Genma-sensei was actually just giving Naruto a speed-talk about where everything went and how to lock up when he was done, because he had a meeting to attend. With that, he left, with all the speed he could muster. 

Naruto was struggling with the equipment. "Oy!" he called to Sasuke upon spotting him. "Give me a hand with this, bastard!" 

Sasuke watched the blond for a moment or two, then crossed the floor and helped him. "Idiot," he muttered.

They finished up, but Naruto decided to drop something. So, they put that away. Naruto dropped something else. Sasuke began to get annoyed with him. He half-thought that the blond moron was doing it on purpose. Before he could drop anything else, he slammed the door to the storage shut, and locked it.

They walked into the change room, which was now eerily empty. Sasuke glared at the other teen. "You planned this, didn't you?" he growled.

Naruto grinned cheekily. "On the side, Sasuke, on the side, and this is definitely on the side."

The blond's voice was muffled, as he was tugging his shirt over his head. "You know," he said, "this might sound a little stupid, or cliche, or whatever, but this is one of my screwball fantasies."

"You are a screwball," Sasuke retorted tartly, deciding it was probably better to cooperate with Naruto than to try and retaliate. He wanted his clothes to stay somewhat dry.  
He was only halfway through getting his pants off when Naruto attacked him. "You're so utterly fuckable," Naruto growled into his neck.

"That's not a word," Sasuke pointed out helpfully, fumbling with his pants.

"Thank you, English Teacher Sasuke."

"Call me sensei," Sasuke retorted with a smug smirk.

"Like hell I'll call you that," Naruto snarled and tugged Sasuke toward the shower stalls. Sasuke kicked his pants away from his ankles.

They were in the shower less than a minute when the door to the change room squealed open. They froze. They waited for someone to speak. Surely, whoever it was could hear the water running.

Very slowly, that damn devious moron Naruto gave Sasuke a good, hard squeeze and pulled his hand back slowly. Sasuke bit down on his lip fiercely. 

"Naruto?" Genma-sensei called. "You still here?" 

Naruto glanced at Sasuke, who looked back at him dully with fright. If they were caught. . .

"Yeah," Naruto called, hoping his voice didn't give anything away, "I'm still here, Genma-sensei!"

The teacher's shoes clicked toward them. Naruto's touch was gone altogether. "Hurry up, okay?" Genma-sensei called, the frown evident in his voice.

"Sure thing," Naruto replied, and he let his hand slide onto the cold water knob on the faucet.

Icy cold water extinguished them both rapidly. He hastily turned off the water and crept out of the shower. Seeing that Genma-sensei was in his office, with the door closed, he motioned to Sasuke. They were dressed and gone in a flash. Once they were outside, Sasuke decked Naruto as hard as he could. "You stupid horny bastard," he growled, and stalked off angrily. 

- - - - - - - - -

Genma wasn't the coach for badminton. Hayate-sensei was. He was a sickly man.

Naruto was a crappy player. It was very clear to Sasuke that he'd never played in his life. It was even more painfully clear when they were matched against the district champions from the prior year - Orochimaru and Itachi. Itachi and Orochimaru, unfortunately, worked well as a team, and were both highly experienced. Neither Sasuke nor Naruto had a chance.  
They lost sorely: thirty-eight-love. Sasuke shrugged it off, but Naruto fumed and fumed and he wasn't even up for a quickie in the shower. They left with Orochimaru and Itachi, but parted ways with them, and he followed Naruto home instead. Naruto apparently had news for him.

He kept up with Naruto easily, no matter how much the blond stomped and stormed. "What's the news?" he asked at last.

Naruto growled. "Sakura's blackmailing us," he snarled.

Sasuke was quiet for a moment. "How?" he asked. 

Naruto swore loudly. "That fucking sonuvabitch Genma had a camera in the change room, and somehow, Sakura got her hands on the tape."

"What. . ," Sasuke said, feeling his heart pick up speed in his chest. He felt sick. "What's she want us to do?" 

"Remember Tsunade's play?" Naruto sneered.

"Romeo and Juliet?"

Naruto nodded. "The leads quit. She wants us to take over."

Sasuke stopped dead in his tracks. "What?" he choked. "Gods, no!"

Naruto grit his teeth. "We have to. Or she'll make copies."

Sasuke kicked a stone at his feet. "So much for on the side," he grumbled.

Naruto said nothing in reply to that. "It's either that or have her make copies - and she wants to watch."

Sasuke stopped. "Eh? Watch?"

Naruto nodded, looking as if he'd just smelled something foul. "Watch what?" Sasuke asked, cautiously, holding a funny sinking feeling in his stomach, as if he really didn't want to know what Sakura wanted to watch.

"Us," was his reply. He closed his eyes.

"Us? How? What do you mean?" He felt very, very sick. The sky was falling, from below him, coming up and swallowing him whole, forcing him upward, into the stratosphere. He was going to fall.

"Are you that stupid!" Naruto hollered. "Do I have to spell it out for you! She wants to watch us have sex!"

Sasuke made a face and stumbled away from Naruto. The sky was still falling up. "Gods, what's wrong with her!"

"I don't know," Naruto grumbled, crossing his arms. "She sure is strange."

They started to walk again. "She can't watch," Sasuke said at length.

Naruto glanced at him. "It's wrong," he replied, answering the question the blond asked him without words.

Naruto frowned. "I would have thought you'd be more of an exhibitionist, you egotistical bastard."

Sasuke glared at him. "I have my morals," he said, in a low, shaking voice. Why on earth would anybody ever want to. . .watch?

He shuddered.

- - - - - -

That was how Sasuke and Naruto ended up at the drama club's meeting on Friday afternoon. Neither of them wanted to be there, but Sakura had been waving an ominous black tape around. Cowed, they had showed up to the drama club.

Tsunade had been less than thrilled to see her least favourite student, but she was absolutely thrilled that Sasuke had decided to show up. "Now," she had cackled, "I can put 'starring Uchiha Sasuke' on the posters, and the show will be sold out before we know it!"

Sasuke got the distinct feeling that this had been planned. Who would have guessed that Sakura and Tsunade were in cahoots?

The first thing they did was have a fight. Naruto didn't want to be Juliet. Sasuke didn't want to be Juliet. Most of the girls were on Sasuke's side. Scratch that, everyone was on Sasuke's side. Naruto was always on a side all by himself.

As always, the fighting became a childish argument between the two of them. "You've got rounder hips!" Naruto accused, jabbing a finger at Sasuke.

"I do not," Sasuke snorted, glowering. "Besides, you have bigger, girly eyes."

Naruto was horrified by that statement. "Y-You take that back, you asshole!"

"It's the truth," Sasuke replied, giving the blond a very cold glance.  
Naruto screwed up his face in determination and anger. "You look like a bloody girl, you twat!"

"I do not!" Sasuke shouted back, finally losing his cool.

"Do so!"

"Do not!"

"Do so!"

"I do not look like a woman, Naruto!"

"You do so! You even scream like a girl!" 

"Naruto -"

Now, Naruto was one of those people was incredibly prone to dragging his emotions into everything. Consequently, he decided to drag his emotions through the mud-puddle that was the public, and air his sex-dirtied laundry over the mud-puddle without a clothes line. Nobody ever said the blond was too brilliant, and without thinking, he launched himself into a fairly poor rendition of Sasuke.

"You're the one always screaming, 'Oh, oh! More, more! Harder, Naruto, gods! Harder!'" 

Sasuke went an unsightly shade of scarlet, which scrawled across his face from ear to ear. "Naruto," he growled.

"Uh," Naruto said, glancing about at the staring eyes.

Sakura giggled somewhere in the back. Naruto supposed she really didn't need that tape now. He felt a blush rising to his cheeks. "Uh. . .what I meant to say was. . .uh. . ."

"We understand what you were trying to say, Naruto," Tsunade cut in, her voice tart and angry. "And now, I'm going to settle this dispute. Sasuke, you'll be Juliet."

"What!" cried the girls that were surrounding them.

Sasuke just stared blankly at the teacher. She smiled, and winked. "Naruto's right. You do have rounder hips."

She turned about, and flounced off, barking orders to the stage directors. Sasuke grit his teeth and clenched his fists. He did not have 'round' hips, goddamnit! Naruto was snickering at him, and as he was, Sasuke turned about and decked him. Hard.  
Naruto spent the next half-hour lying comatose on the floor, while Sasuke refrained - barely - from hitting Tsunade, who had proclaimed herself costume director as well. He could only be glad it was Friday, and he'd have two whole days of reprieve before this madness started all over again on Monday.

- - - - - - -

Itachi watched Orochimaru, completely bemused, annoyed and amused all at once by the older teen's frantic, last-minute 'packing'. How Orochimaru had logically reasoned he was going to need all of the stuff he was stuffing into a variety of backpacks and suitcases, Itachi did not know. He guessed that Orochimaru hadn't reasoned at all.

Another question that was plaguing him happened to be, 'how the hell do you plan to get all this stuff on the back of a motorcycle, without burying me alive?' He raised an eyebrow, when Orochimaru decided he needed another pair of socks, and frantically started looking for a place to put them in an already overstuffed backpack.

"Would you give up?" Itachi asked, just plain annoyed now.

"Give what up?"

"Packing all that. . .crap. Travel light, you moron."

"You sound like your brother," Orochimaru retorted, grinning gleefully and stuffing the socks into the bag, tearing a rather large hole in it. He frowned. 

"I don't care who I sound like. I just want you to use your brain for once."

Orochimaru whipped about, frowning. "And just what it that supposed to mean, Uchiha?"

Itachi pointed at the mound of stuff Orochimaru was planning on taking with them. "How do you expect to get all of that on the motorcycle? You're not being rational."

Orochimaru stuck his nose up into the air. "Pfft! And you're too rational! This is supposed to be a fun trip -"

"You're being rather neurotic. How is that fun?"

"You have a stick up your ass. You figure out how that's fun, and I'll let you know why neurosis is the most amusing state possible."

Itachi shook his head, and rolled over on the bed. "You. . .drive me insane."

"With desire?" Orochimaru asked, his voice muffled by the backpack his head was currently being swallowed by.  
"No," Itachi spat, sitting up. "Insane with rage. As in, I'm going to beat your bloody head against the nearest wall if you don't start thinking!" 

"I am thinking, thank you."

"Get your head out of that backpack," Itachi grumbled with a sigh.

"Why?" 

"Do you need a reason?"

Orochimaru thought about that for a moment. "Yes," he replied.

Itachi growled, and pulled on Orochimaru's hair angrily. "Don't be an ass."

The older teen stuck his tongue out, and the Uchiha heir couldn't help but sigh heavily and shake his head. "You are so immature." 

"You're so mature it makes me sick."

"Let's just go" the younger teen said at last, crossing his arms and turning away from his boyfriend.

"Sure thing, suga-pie." 

"Don't start with the names."

Orochimaru gave his boyfriend a whimsical look. "And why, pray tell, not? I've got so many good ones."

Itachi glared at him, picking up his pack from the floor and leaving. "Hurry up. And don't forget your wallet."

"Yes, mother-dearest," Orochimaru sighed, zipping shut the pack he was holding.

"Don't call me that, either!" Itachi yelled at him from the hall. "I'm no crack-whore!"

Orochimaru winced, and glared at the door at that. He hated it when people referred to his mother that way. It wasn't that he felt any compassion for the woman, nor that he felt she had any sort of honour to uphold, but her blood, watered down though it might be, was in his veins. In essence, he felt that calling his mother a crack-whore was calling him a crack-whore. Which he wasn't.

He trudged downstairs, lugging only one pack. He went outside, keys in hand, his wallet in his pocket. He hoped he'd have enough money to buy gas. Itachi was sitting on the bike - an ancient thing, though he'd polished it to hell and back. Itachi looked utterly unimpressed.

"That's all you're taking?" he asked, his voice subdued back to the dead monotone he wore too often.

"Yes."

He tossed their luggage on the back of the motorcycle and tied it down, as quickly as he could. His boyfriend watched impassively. "You could help, you know." 

Itachi said nothing. Orochimaru climbed on the bike. He was used to the younger boy's silences by now. They shouldn't have bothered him so much. Somehow, Itachi being silent made him nervous today, as if something bad was brewing in the smaller teen's mind. Anything that lurked in the shadows of Itachi's head had to be dangerous.

He ignored the feeling of foreboding that swirled around in his stomach, twisting it into complicated, untying knots, and he roiled with them. He ignited the engine, and the motorcycle roared to life. Itachi jumped.

He glanced back at his boyfriend, pulling his goggles up from where they'd been hanging about his neck. He settled them over his eyes, knowing that in an hour or two, he'd have red marks about them. He didn't really care. He revved the engine, then looked back at Itachi, who had latched onto the sides of the seat. His fingernails dug into the leather. "Hang on tight," he taunted, and with a devilish grin, kicked the bike into gear.

Itachi did as he was told, and clung to the fabric, slowly squeezing all the life force out of it with his fingers as they tore out of the driveway. Whoever had given Orochimaru his license was a maniac.

They tore down the road, swerving between the parked cars that lined the street, and dodging potholes and such. Once or twice, they hit bumps, and Itachi clung to the seat harder, closing his eyes and praying to whatever higher spirit existed that he would not lose his grip and fall off.

They turned a corner, dangerously fast, and it was all Itachi could do to force his rigid self to lean into that turn, and he had to admire Orochimaru for a moment. He was so fluid, and, as cliched as it might have been, so at peace and at oneness with that motorcycle that it scared him.

They hit a rough patch in the road, and then, the brakes were slammed on. Itachi went tumbling forward, smashing his nose against Orochimaru's back, nearly gouging out his eye on the other teen's shoulder blade. His fingers fumbled, coming loose from their hold, but scrambling, desperate to keep hold. The second he couldn't feel that leather, flimsy between his fingers any longer, he let go altogether and flung his grip forward, wrapping his arms tightly about the nearest, solid thing he could find.  
His head was pressed firmly against his boyfriend's back, and he closed his eyes. "Goddamn squirrels," Orochimaru muttered, and Itachi felt his voice resonating inside him, like the growl of a great beast resonates and echoes in a large, empty cave.

He shifted, and tried to find a better position. As it was, his arms were crushed right against the older boy's ribs, and that wasn't comfortable at all. He slid his arms down, and he pulled himself closer to the other.

Orochimaru really didn't like Itachi's squirming, but he bore in mind that the younger teen didn't move unless he absolutely had to. Though Itachi was upsetting the balance of the bike, Orochimaru let him, knowing that if he didn't, he risked upsetting the delicate balance that was Itachi. The Uchiha heir lived more on the edge of insanity than even himself, and he did everything in his power to keep him grounded in reality, holding onto the physical world that he woke to every morning.

The bike continued down the road, and he glanced back at Itachi now, noting that the other boy had rested his head in the crook of his shoulder. Itachi was looking up at him, as if to say, "Don't read into this too much," and he smiled. He wanted to say something, but it would be lost on the wind now, so he'd wait.

The sky was clear, and the weather was warm when they stopped. They hadn't hit heavy traffic yet, but the road to Kiri was less travelled than the one to Suna. At this time of year, Suna was buzzing with tourists, all who sought the beach. Kiri was a retreat for those who like the rain and the cloud, and liked to stay inside. Orochimaru wasn't exactly one of those people, but he didn't mind being locked up, alone, with Itachi.

Orochimaru stopped at a gas bar, and he filled the tank on the bike. Itachi walked about a bit, stretching his back, discreetly of course. The weasel was never very obvious. Such a sneaky derisive creature it was.

They were back on the bike in a matter of moments, back on the open road. The trees along the roadside were in full leaf, the wind making them wave their leafy branches, as if in greeting. The fields that rolled by were seas of green now, and the sky was very blue overhead. The sun made all the colours vivid and bright.

The journey wore on and on, and as they went, the sky turned grey, and the first threats of a storm came to be apparent. Itachi held on tighter, even as the roader became rougher, and less maintained.

It became apparent that they were lost, only when it started to rain. Orochimaru pulled over to the side of the road, and he looked at the map, trying not to get it wet. The water kept soaking through, no matter what he did.

Itachi got off the bike, and he crouched by the side of the road, watching the rain form eddies and rivers in the sand and gravel. Leaves, twigs and small rocks were borne away on the swift flowing water. Water, always moving, falling, and then, rushing away from its landing place, looking for the lowest valley, in which to gather its scattered self, and rise again.

A dead beetle floated by on its back, and Itachi grabbed a twig and poked at the corpse, watching with grim fascination when it did nothing. It just went on, on top of the rushing waters, in its death, never to lie down and rest. Away, and away and away it went, forever.

He stood up and threw the stick away. He walked back to the bike. "Any idea where we're going now, genius?" he asked.

Orochimaru tossed his hair out of his eyes. "No," he growled irritably.

Itachi sat down on the wet seat, the water soaking into his pants immediately. He sighed. He held out his hand. "Here. Let me see."

The older teen huffed and handed over the map. The water had marred the ink now, and it was almost illegible, but somehow, Itachi figured out where they were and where they needed to go. He folded up the map and straddled the bike again. He said nothing to Orochimaru, but he gave the driver a nod, and the bike roared to life again.

The rain sloshed up from the road, hopping over them, and springing into their eyes. Itachi tried to hide in the shelter of Orochimaru's shoulder, but the older teen's wet hair kept slapping him in the face. There was no reprieve. Orochimaru had to keep wiping his goggles off, and even that wasn't helping as they started to fog up.

"We might have to pull over and wait out the storm," he hollered back to Itachi.

Itachi said nothing. They rode for sometime longer, until Orochimaru could barely see the road anymore. He shook his head and pulled off the road. Itachi didn't complain. If there was one nice thing about Itachi's silences, it was that they were neither hostile, nor accepting.

- - - - - - -

Sakura frowned when she saw Ino after the play practice. Ino tossed her hair over her shoulder and looked away. They were standing in the parking lot together. Sakura didn't know who Ino was waiting for. She herself was waiting for her mother to pick her up. She had a doctor's appointment now.

They were ignoring each other, for a little while at least. Sakura shifted nervously, several times. The hostile silence bore down on her. She glanced at Ino from time to time, and finally, she worked up her nerve, and said, "This is stupid." 

Ino shot her a death glare, but she wouldn't dare be bowed by that. "Temari screwed us both over," she said, meeting Ino's gaze evenly. "She's lied to both of us. We should be working together to get back at her."  
Ino sneered, her lip curling up. "Why would I work with a little rat like you?" she growled. 

Sakura hunched her shoulders up and pushed back the urge to yell. Why were blondes always so bullheaded? "Temari's trying to keep us separated! I don't know why, but she is!"

Ino shook her head. "Oh, right. And why would she do that?"

"I told you, I don't know!"

"Then why do you figure she is?"

Their voices were growing shrill. They were getting closer, drawn to each other in their rage. A catfight was looming on the not-so-distant horizon. "She was the one who told!" Sakura screamed, her pink hair flying into her face, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"What's her motive!" Ino roared back, her hair controlled, but her facial features contorting with unrestrained rage.

"She wanted you!" the older girl hollered, and Ino slapped her.

"Don't lie to me," she hissed, her eyes narrowing, in a bid to keep tears from springing to her eyes.

She knew she shouldn't be screaming at her former best friend. Somehow, it felt so wrong to be defending Temari, after they'd both been hurt by her. Why did she feel the need to defend her torturer? There was no honour in it, and had she any morals left, she would have sided with Sakura and planned revenge with her.

They snarled at each other, ready to dive in for the kill, but at that particular moment, Sakura's mother drove up, and stopped the car. Sakura turned away from Ino as quick as she could, and got in the car, slamming the door. The lady looked at her daughter. "Did Ino want a ride home?" she asked, and Sakura shook her head violently.

"Oh. All right then," she replied, and took off.

Ino glared after them, but turned away, and headed for home, just as quick as she could.

- - - - - - -

It had happened so suddenly. After months of speculatively waiting, and knowing about the impending event, TenTen was finally having a baby. The fact was driven home by the pain she was currently in, a pain that had driven over her swiftly and engulfed her, drowned her in its sea of agony.   
She had lost track of time very quickly. Every second felt like an eternity, and there wasn't a long enough space for breathing between her contractions. Pain screamed its way up and down her body, and she was rapt with it. It seemed odd to her that she was going to love so fiercely this that caused her so much agony. What an oft abused creature the mother was.

It seemed forever, and a second all at once, but the baby was not coming. For whatever reason, she was stuck there, in labour, for the rest of her life. She wanted to scream, but she already was and her vocal chords were in tatters. 

The nurses and the doctor were talking, all about her - the doctor had just arrived to find her stuck in this position. They were going to do something about it. She just didn't know what. Neji was nowhere to be seen. It made her nervous. He had been there earlier, hadn't he? But now, he was gone.

Where was her reassurance in his hand, clutching hers? They had taken her lifeline and left her to drown now, just when she had found she needed that lifeline because she couldn't swim. The doctor was saying something to her, but she was confused by his words.

And then, they were moving, blurred and the places they went by were a whirlwind of letters and things that she could not comprehend. And slowly, they stopped, and they were out of the halls, and she was in a strange room. There was something over her face and she couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe at all! And then, slowly, descending sweetly, came the darkness, lulling her back to sleep, security and a trust in all things. Slowly, the darkness crept over her, drawing her, luring her with its mysterious shadows, back to the well that everything began in.

She was asleep, and all was well with the world.

- - - - - - -


	39. Back to the Grind

(Author's Note: Remember to review, if you're reading! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters. Next update will be chapter 40, the last chapter posted before the fic was removed. Chapter 41 will be posted two days after Chapter 40. After Chapter 41, please allow two to three weeks for updates.

Special thanks to Ruby Love, who originally beta'ed this chapter.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 39: Back to the Grind

The weekend in Kiri didn't prove quite to be as wonderful a getaway as Orochimaru had made it out to be. Itachi had thought he'd been lying all along about thinking it was going to turn out okay. He knew that Orochimaru was just being optimistic and trying to get him to go. Lousy asshole.

First, it had rained all day Saturday. That was really no big surprise. Kiri had a very moist climate, being by the sea and all. It had rained on the way there too, and all of Friday night. It rained most of Sunday as well, but there was the occasional break in the cloud and the sun would peek through for a few moments. Needless to say, a motorcycle wasn't really an ideal form of transportation in Kiri.

The hotel they were staying in was in the rundown downtown core, and it had been cheap. Itachi wouldn't have minded to put out the extra money to stay somewhere half-decent. Orochimaru had refused that, and rented what he could, which was this. It had cockroaches everywhere, and the place was old. Its heater didn't work quite properly, and they were forced to huddle together, in the middle of the bed, with the blankets pulled as tightly around them as possible to keep warm. It wasn't cold, but damp. It was a permeating chill that bored into your bones, and stayed.

Friday night, they had just crashed. They had dragged everything into the hotel, and curled up on the bed together and slept. Saturday was hardly more interesting. Television was horrible in Kiri. The reception in the hotel made it even worse to try and watch. Wandering was ruled out, so they had eaten breakfast and lunch at the hotel. Leaving was ruled out when it started to rain even more at lunchtime. They had, instead, gone and curled up in the hotel room.

It was at dinnertime when they actually deemed it safe to leave the hotel room. Orochimaru had insisted that they go somewhere for dinner, and so, they had set off on the bike, and spent half-an hour in the pouring rain, trying to find a decent place to eat.

They had, eventually, decided to eat at one of Kiri's local shops, which was serving authentic food from the country. There were other shops about, that served cultural dishes from Konoha, but neither had been really keen on eating things they could get at home. 

Kiri was in a different country than Konoha. They were on the same continent, and cultural advancements flowed across their borders. Konoha had the dominant culture, being one of the biggest exporters of several different things.

The food had been hot, and that had been good. The waitress had even given them a seat by the heater, so they could dry out a bit. She had seemed a little wary of them, as if she might have suspected something between them, but for all she knew, they were just teenage friends. They could have even been cousins.

They had gone for a walk down that street after that, window shopping at the local shops. They hadn't bought anything, except an umbrella, which Itachi had deemed necessary. Orochimaru had wanted to find a theatre at that point, but Itachi steadfastly refused.

They returned to the hotel, and engaged in activities of their favourite variety. Then, there had been rest, more fun in the morning, and now, it was late Sunday afternoon. Itachi wasn't normally a person to lie abed, but he was still in bed, though the clock did indeed say three-twenty-seven p.m.

They had to leave now. It wasn't that they needed to check out of the hotel, but that Sasuke had just called and informed them that Gran and Kurenai had important things to discuss with Itachi before they departed tomorrow. And they had conveniently not mentioned these issues until three twenty-two p.m.

So, back they went to Konoha. It was a long ride, and there were rain showers, and sun showers most of the way back, until they were about half-an-hour outside of Konoha. From there on, the sun shone steadily, and Itachi had never been more grateful for it. His hair was finally drying, and so was his skin. Orochimaru was drying out too, which was pleasant, because they had been sticking together in weird ways.

It was six-thirty-four p.m. when they pulled into the driveway of the Uchiha household. Sasuke was sitting on the doorstep, looking decidedly pissed off. Itachi didn't say anything to his little brother when he walked past him, but Sasuke jumped to his feet, and followed him, intent on telling his brother all about what had been going on. 

"They're driving me crazy!" he'd said, very loudly. 

Gran and Kuernai were sitting on the sofa. Kurenai had her head turned in Sasuke's direction. She didn't look pleased by what he'd said, but Gran hadn't heard. It was a good thing for Sasuke that she was going deaf.

Orochimaru bowed out wisely, taking his and Itachi's luggage upstairs, and hiding away. He didn't want to be caught in the middle of this conversation. While there may not have been lots of yelling, there certainly would be lots of glaring and tense situations.

Itachi nodded to his elders, wearing a trademark expression of blankness. Sasuke glanced nervously between his relatives, then sat down on the floor, kneeling. Itachi sat down in the armchair, facing his family. 

Kurenai nudged Gran, who looked as if she had let her mind go wandering to some far off places. She looked at the young woman, who smiled apologetically, and said, "Itachi is here, Gran."

The old woman looked confused for a moment or two. "Itachi?" she said at last, squinting at Kurenai, as if she had never heard the name before in her life.

Kurenai nodded. "Yes. Your great-grandson. You have something very important to tell him, Gran." 

She frowned, in deep thought. Kurenai looked to her nephew, smiling with apology. "I'm sorry. Gran's been acting up lately. I'm afraid her memory's gone."

He nodded, to say that he understood, and then, the old lady spoke. "Ah, Itachi. How is the little tyke? I haven't seen him since he was in diapers." 

Kurenai glanced at the Uchiha heir, as if to say, "Be patient", and patted the old woman's arm. "He's sitting right here, right now. He's seventeen now, Gran. We've been staying with them for the past four months or so."

The old woman looked surprised. "We have?"

Kurenai nodded, and Gran looked past her, to the young man sitting in the armchair. "Itachi?" she asked, almost timidly.

He nodded, and then, her memory seemed to come back to her all at once. "Ah! Yes! We are leaving tomorrow, and I thought it was about time for you to know why we're here."

Itachi thought that this was something the old lady should have mentioned at the beginning of her stay. Maybe she had forgotten.

She cleared her throat and closed her eyes. "We came to observe your behaviour, and I have decided, as clan head, that you are a worthy heir for the Uchiha clan."

She gave him a smile, something that was a rare and coveted thing from the crusty old woman, or from any member of the Uchiha clan in general. 

- - - - - - - -

Sasuke and Itachi had both bowed out of class early, muttering something to Naruto and Orochimaru, respectively, about their relatives finally leaving. That left Naruto and Orochimaru at practice, without partners. Such was luck, that they should get stuck together playing doubles.  
Orochimaru was very clearly frustrated with Naruto's lack of skill. They won their first match by a narrow two points. Naruto grinned sheepishly at the older male, who glowered in his direction. "What the hell are you doing?" Orochimaru asked him, as the practising teams rotated. 

Naruto scratched his head. "Uhh. . .playing badminton?" 

Orochimaru glowered, and muttered something under his breath. Naruto, not being completely oblivious, noted that his hand tightened around the neck of the racket. Naruto looked up. "Uh! Hey! Sorry, you know, but. . ."

He jogged a bit to catch up with the storming teen. "I've never played before. Iruka-sensei's a great guy and all, but he doesn't have time to take me places, or the money for me to do things. So. . ."

Orochimaru paused, and gave him a look, then shrugged, turning away. "Whatever, kid." 

Naruto snarled. "Don't call me kid!" He mustered all the strength he could, and punched the older teen in the arm. 

Orochimaru spun about and smacked him solidly in the face with his racket. "Don't touch me, brat. Do you want to see tomorrow?"

Naruto stuck his tongue out childishly, and rubbed his nose. They settled into stance on the court, glaring darkly at their opponents, who were just staring at them. The whistle blew, and the match began.

The match was over almost as quickly as it started. Apparently, all it took to get Naruto to play well was to get him pissed off. Orochimaru, also rather ruffled, was hitting the birdie back, with twice as much ferocity as Naruto was. Their opponents never stood a chance. As it was, they weren't even keeping score, just smashing the birdie back across the net every time it happened to sail their way.

The whistle blew twice again, to end the match. Naruto glanced at Orochimaru, who glared at him, and then, the blond promptly turned his head away. They went to sit the next match out, as they were told. They'd reached the end of the courts. In the next match, they'd start at the other end. 

They must have made quite the sight, sitting there, glaring out at the rest of the floor, and pointedly not being near each other. They were sitting at opposite ends of the bench. Orochimaru's foot tapped out time on the floor, in an angry, erratic rhythm.

At last, the silence grew almost unbearable. Naruto hated being mad at people, and being quiet. It wasn't his nature. "Oy, Orochi-bastard, did you hear what Tsunade did to Sasuke?"

The serpentine teen glanced his way, glaring still, with an eyebrow raised. "What did that old bat do now?"

"She cast Sasuke as Juliet in her play."

Orochimaru started to laugh. "Short stuff? She's gonna make him play Juliet? Does she have a death wish?"

Naruto felt a smile quirk at the corner of his lips. "Maybe," he replied. "She is pretty old." 

Orochimaru's smile faded away. "Are you gonna go back to playing like crap now?"

"Probably," Naruto said with a sigh, tilting his head to the side.

They were silent for a few minutes. Then, Naruto said, "Say, do you give lessons?" 

"Lessons in what?" Orochimaru asked, his voice a dead monotone, but his face decidedly perverted.

"Gah! Not like that!" Naruto practically yelled, jumping in fear, and consequently falling off the bench.

Orochimaru laughed at him. "Sure, squirt. I can give you lessons. You name it, I've been there and done it."

Naruto blushed a bit at the implications of that, but scowled nonetheless. "Badminton. I just want lessons for this stupid game. Nothing more," he growled.

Orochimaru smirked. "Are you sure? 'Cause I know this trick, that you-"

The whistle blew, signalling the end of the match, cutting Orochimaru off. They rose, and trotted off, down the length of the gym, to the farthest court. They played their match, and won, unsurprisingly. Naruto's playing was back to its usual, sloppy self.

The whistle blew, and they trotted between to the next match. Naruto glanced at Orochimaru. "But seriously," he said, "can you give me some pointers or something? Sasuke was pretty pissed at me the other day. . ."

"Pfft!" Orochimaru said, bashing Naruto over the head with his racket, and stopping. "Don't even bother trying to please that little bastard! He wouldn't be happy unless you killed his brother - which, by the way, don't even try, or I'll kill you - and even then, he'd still be pissed, because he could have killed him, you know, and you took away his opportunity." 

Naruto blinked, stupidly. "Uh?" he said at last, leaning forward a bit, communicating that he had not understood what the other teen had said.  
Orochimaru shook his head. "Never mind. I'll give you some pointers."

"Yeah!" Naruto cried, throwing his fist up into the air, signifying his victory. 

Orochimaru smiled, a little bit. Naruto wasn't such a bad kid. Even if he was annoying at times, he was. . . He didn't even really know how to explain it. Naruto just was. It was more than he could say about some people he knew, namely himself.

They played another three matches, and then, practice was over. They headed to the change rooms, with the rest of the team (so to speak). Orochimaru found the word he'd been looking for to describe Naruto. Enthusiastic. The brat was enthusiastic.

"So, when will you give me these pointers? Huh? I really want to play better next week!" 

Orochimaru raised an eyebrow, then tugged a t-shirt over his head, and tossed his soggy towel in Naruto's face. "Brat. Hurry up and change or you won't be getting any pointers at all." 

Naruto practically dove into his clothes. Orochimaru didn't think he'd ever seen anyone get dressed so quickly in his life. "I'm still getting pointers, right?" the blond asked, whipping back about to face the older teen.

". . .yes," Orochimaru said, slowly closing his eyes. Naruto was also persistent. How wonderful.

Naruto threw his fist into the air again. "Great! When do we start?"

Orochimaru looked blankly at Naruto. "Are you this eager about everything?" he asked, looking away, stuffing the rest of his things into his gym bag.

Naruto nodded vigorously. "Yes! So, when do we start?"

Orochimaru looked at the clock on the wall. "When do you want to start?" he asked, with an almost tired sigh. Naruto could take a lot out of people without even trying. How did Sasuke manage with this brat? 

He thought he knew why, but he didn't bother going there. He was apparently going to have to spend the rest of the afternoon with Naruto anyway. Why should he bother dwelling on past events? 

"I want to start immediately!" Naruto hollered, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder.

Orochimaru winced. Naruto had no decibel control. "That's very good, Naruto. The first trick to playing well is shutting up."

It was a very good thing Naruto was gullible. He clamped his mouth shut instantly. Orochimaru nodded sagely, then turned to walk away. Naruto followed him. He wanted to tell the younger teen that he couldn't follow people if he wanted to play a good game of badminton, but he figured that was just cruel.

Naruto was a bit confused when he saw they were going to Sasuke's house, and forgot rule number one about playing a good badminton game. "Hey! Why are you taking me to Uchiha's house? Do you live there or something?"

Orochimaru shook his head. "No. I don't live there. But I like to, and generally, I don't go away. And you just broke rule number one."

Naruto made a small noise, and shut up again. He was silent for the remainder of the walk to the Uchiha house. Orochimaru was happy for that. He let them into the backyard through the gate, and shut it behind them and locked it again. Naruto blinked once or twice. He'd only seen Sasuke's backyard a couple of times, when it had been snow-covered. He'd had no clue, really, as to how vast the land the Uchihas owned was. No wonder this was considered the 'upscale' part of town.

There was a tennis court, and a good-sized in-ground swimming pool. Those gave way to a well-tended lawn, surrounded by well-kempt gardens and at the far end of the property, there was a line of tall trees, both coniferous and deciduous, and the fence was hidden behind their tree trunks. There was even a waterfall. Naruto mentally made a note to force some of the fish in his over-populated pond into Sasuke's.

Orochimaru had dropped his gym bag on the ground and was fishing out his racquet. It had been a gift from Itachi when they'd managed to walk away with the gold. The Uchiha could be sentimental sometimes, though Orochimaru didn't dare tell him so.

"Ready?" he asked Naruto, walking to the equipment shed that was locked up near the pool.

Naruto nodded dumbly, then shook himself to life, and dashed over to the shed, grabbing a racquet from the wall. He didn't own his own.

They played singles, with Orochimaru shouting out tips that sounded more like orders to Naruto. The blond did his best to improve his game, but eventually, Orochimaru would have to stop the game, and show Naruto what he meant. Then, they would start again, and continue playing, and the whole process started again. 

They stopped when the sky got dark, and Naruto got hit in the head with the birdie and they lost it. No amount of scrambling in the darkness could recover it. It was a nice evening, and they didn't really care that it was dark outside. Orochimaru flicked on the outside lights, and enlisted Narut's help to open up the pool.

It was a bit strange, Naruto thought, to be swimming in someone else's pool in the middle of the night, without the owner of the pool, and with someone else's boyfriend. It wasn't as if they were doing anything, but it was just. . .strange. He thought he would have liked it better had it been Sasuke in the pool with him.

"Oy," Naruto said, resting his arms on the side of the pool, slowly kicking his feet out behind him.

Orochimaru looked at him, his hair straggling in his face. He looked a bit like a drowned animal. "What?"

"Do you. . .remember?" Naruto asked, haltingly, fighting back a blush.

They could hear a car in the driveway. The occupants of the house had returned. They both paused, and then, Orochimaru turned back to Naruto. "Remember what?" he asked, trying to read Naruto's expression, but having a feeling he knew what the blond was trying to say anyway.

"Erm," Naruto said, "do you remember what happened. . .at the cottage? When Itachi was drunk?"

Orochimaru shrugged. "Yeah. What about it?"

Naruto shrugged, trying to brush it off. "I just. . .wanted to know. What did you think about that? I mean. . .I dunno. Sasuke doesn't like to talk about it."

"I would think so," Orochimaru said, "he's such a straight-laced bastard. I. . .dunno. It was fun. I guess. Weird. What do you think?" 

Naruto looked at the ground, at the floor of the pool and the rippling of the water. "I. . .didn't know what to think. It was weird. I. . .don't know what to think."

He shook his head slowly. There was a thumping, and then, the backdoor opened. Sasuke was standing there. "Get out of the pool!" he yelled, but he sounded a bit tentative.

Naruto glanced at Orochimaru. The older male grinned. "He can't tell who it is," he said, and splashed over to the side, clambering up, out of the pool.

"Hey, Short Stuff! Is that anyway to greet me?" he asked, flipping his hair back out of his eyes.

Naruto stayed in the pool. He didn't really want to get out of the warm water and lend the cool night air his flesh. He hunkered down in the water, hoping Sasuke didn't see him. When he peeked up again, Sasuke and Orochimaru were having an argument. Or maybe Orochimaru was lecturing Sasuke. He couldn't quite tell.

At last, Orochimaru stopped pointing and shaking his fist, and turned to go inside. Sasuke glanced back at the pool. The door to the house banged shut.

Sasuke started walking toward the pool, his feet slapping against the patio. "Hello?" he called. "Anybody in the pool?"

Naruto contemplated hopping out and scaring him, but refrained, holding back laughter. Sasuke came closer still, frowning. Naruto ducked under water, holding his breath, his nose, and closing his eyes. He kept one hand on the ledge.

Sasuke stopped just beside the pool. He frowned, glancing out across the unbroken calm of the water. "Hey! I know you're there! Come on out!" he called, crossing his arms across his chest.

Naruto pried his fingers from the ledge, and slid his fingers slowly up Sasuke's foot, to rest firmly around his ankle. And he pulled.

Sasuke yelled, and went with splash into the pool. All the air was squashed out of his lungs when he hit the water, and the liquid gushed in, choking. He came up a second later, sputtering and gasping, trying to wipe the chlorine out of his stinging eyes, amid much laughter from Naruto.

Sasuke spat water out of his mouth. "Goddamnit, Naruto!" he shouted, then made a move to deck the blond in the face.

He stumbled, instead, unused to the sudden change of elements, and fell against Naruto. The blond grinned down at him. "Hi, Sasuke. You're all wet."

"Thanks," the dark-haired boy grumbled, frowning. 

Sasuke made as if to move, then winced. Naruto glanced down at him. "Something the matter?" he asked, trying to pull the other boy up a bit.

Sasuke growled, "Yes," and became very concerned with something submerged. "I've got fucking cuts all over my legs, moron. Thanks a lot."

"Sorry," Naruto murmured.

Sasuke pushed away from him, and clambered out of the pool, unable to stand the chlorine infiltrating his cuts any longer. He scraped his knees on the way out, and cursed. Naruto was laughing at him again. "Want some help?" the blond asked, clambering out of the pool as well.

"If your idea of help includes tossing me in the pool again, then no," Sasuke retorted bitterly. He was limping a bit.

Naruto rolled his eyes. "Goodness," he said, exasperated, "you're such a stick in the mud. Let me help you."

He linked Sasuke's arm with his own, regardless of the boy's protests and dragged him toward the house. Sasuke hit him in the arm. "I told you, I don't need your help Uzumaki!"  
Naruto turned to face him, holding him by the arms tightly, frowning. "Why the hell are you so uptight? There's nobody here, but you and me. You don't have to act like a prick all the time, Sasuke."

The dark-haired boy frowned, then looked away. "Whatever," he mumbled.

Naruto shook his head, laughing silently at Sasuke's persistence. And people said he was stubborn. "All right," he said, jovially, "we'll get you upstairs."

He picked Sasuke up, and carried him into the house, bridal style, with Sasuke kicking and screaming all the way. Naruto didn't mind. What were a few bruises? He somehow managed to get Sasuke all the way upstairs. He tossed the other teen unceremoniously on the bed. Sasuke swore at him. Naruto shut the door. Sasuke glowered. "Aw, poor Sasuke's got some boo-boos," Naruto said, in the most 'I'm-so-cute-it's-sick' voice he could muster.

Sasuke swatted his hand away when he tried to get a look at the wounds. Naruto frowned and shook his head. "And how do you expect to be able to bind your wounds properly if they're on your ass?"

Sasuke growled. "They wouldn't be there if it weren't for a certain moron."

Naruto looked thoughtful. "I suppose this means no sex, right?"

Sasuke just glowered. Naruto grinned sheepishly, and went off to the bathroom to get some salve and bandages. The blond returned with several items in tow, saying, "Okay, I'm sorry. But you're going to have to take off your pants."

Sasuke glared. Naruto smiled, and shut the door very slowly. "Would you like me to close the curtains first?"

"Yes," Sasuke snarled. "Please. I'd rather not show my bloody ass to the entire neighbourhood."

Naruto drew the blinds, snickering. "I dunno. I think your neighbourhood would like that. I mean, who wouldn't like that?"

"Me," Sasuke hissed. "It's my ass."

Naruto knelt down behind the half-naked boy, and pushed some salve onto his finger thoughtfully. "I dunno about that, Sasuke."

Sasuke glared back at him over his shoulder. "Don't you even consider telling me that my ass belongs to you, Uzumaki. It doesn't."

Naruto grinned happily, holding his finger just above Sasuke, letting his right hand slowly splay the boy's legs. Sasuke growled in warning. "Naruto. . ."  
The finger went on its merry way, happily plying itself to Sasuke's back end, the cuts and the scrapes there. Sasuke winced at the cold touch, but said nothing. It was a little bit of a shock to him, not just from the cold or the touch, but the fact that Naruto was actually being gentle. Somehow, it didn't seem fitting for the blond to be gentle. Normally, Naruto was brash, bold and rough.

He stiffened considerably, paralysis taking over him, when Naruto trailed his fingers up that insides of his thighs, and came just a little too close to some things that probably were better left alone thanks to the injuries plastered all over his backside. But Naruto's touch was soothing, and soft, so he decided to take it while he could get it.

- - - - - - - - - -

Play practice on Tuesday was hell, Tsunade decided. Officially hell, by her doctorate's degree in English.

She had spent all weekend trying to fix the costume for her newly acquired 'Juliet'. The previous player had been a girl. She had anticipated getting another female to fill the role of Juliet, but she had no such luck (although Sasuke did make a very pretty girl). So, she had to vastly modify the entire costume.

Now Sasuke was refusing to even look at it. She shook it at him. "Put it on!"

Sasuke crossed his arms and shook his head. "No way in hell. I'm not wearing a dress." 

Tsunade glowered. "Get. In. The. Dress. Boy."

"You're speaking in sentence fragments," he said, avoiding the topic altogether.

Tsunade could have screamed. Instead, she said, very calmly, "Sasuke, my dear. You are playing Juliet. Juliet is a girl, in the fifteenth century. Girls in the fifteenth century wore dresses and nothing but dresses. You, as Juliet, are going to have to wear a dress."

"But I'm not a girl!" Sasuke refuted, stomping his foot against the floor.

Tsunade bit her lip, and grabbed Sasuke in a headlock, forcing the dress over his head angrily, and tearing out some of the seams. Sasuke tried to fight her, but it wasn't working. The seams could be fixed later. Much later.

Two minutes later, Sasuke was in the dress, glaring. Tsunade frowned, and tugged at the edges of the dress. "Don't have much of a figure, do you?" she said, pondering what to do about that.

Sasuke would have hit her, had she not been a teacher. Instead, he tried tearing the dress into little pieces. Tsunade slapped the backs of his hands. "Bad. Don't do that. Hmm. . .you're going to have to wear a corset."

Sasuke spluttered, and that was the point Naruto decided to walk on stage, late as usual. "What's his problem?" he asked Tsunade, pointing at Sasuke as he strolled casually by.

"It's going to be your problem in a minute, brat!" Tsunade growled, and Naruto ran away from her, hurrying backstage.

He returned a moment or two later, screaming, "Aw, crap! I forgot my script!"

"A corset!" Sasuke practically whispered, his voice hoarse, but choked with so much anger. Tsunade was slightly scared of him at that moment.

She was excused from one tentative outburst of homicidal rage, to tend to another bout of murderous violence, which stemmed this time, from Sakura toward Ino. The two girls were screaming at each other, and pulling at each other's hair. As it turned out, Sakura had been trying to have a nice, civil conversation with Ino, and the blonde girl got snarly with her. So, she slapped her.

Or, if you wanted Ino's version, Sakura was being a total wimpy bitch, and when Ino tried to indicate she wanted nothing to do with her, Sakura slapped her. Tsunade wasn't sure which were worse at this point: boys or girls.

The practice continually got worse from there. Hinata had an obvious lack of self-confidence, despite the fact that Kiba was sitting in the auditorium, clapping for her. Tsunade had to chase him out with a broom. She wasn't going to have any unwanted spectators. If he wanted to see the play, he could come when it was polished, and he could pay for a ticket. 

Then, it was back to the current impending disaster, the one currently known as Sasuke. Naruto had returned, with his script, and then, said something to Sasuke. Sasuke was now trying to kill Naruto. Tsunade had thought that Macbeth had been the play with bad luck. 

There was a new actor who had just signed on too. His name was Gaara. She had seen him around the school before, but no often. He was a quiet sort, but he could speak his lines just as well as anyone. She supposed that was one thing she had to be thankful for. She wasn't sure she could deal with another Naruto. The blond kept tripping all over the language.

Naruto had been surprised to see Gaara, apparently. The redhead and blond had looked at each other, one completely stoic, the other looking terribly surprised. She got the distinct feeling there was something deeper between these two.

"Gaara!" Naruto cried, then rushed to clap the other boy on the back. "Where the hell have you been? You been keepin' okay?"

Gaara nodded, and glanced at Sasuke, who looked warily back at him. Tsunade tried to remember whether they had any scenes together. There was definitely animosity there, and it wouldn't do to have them in a lot of scenes together. Gaara was in more scenes with Naruto, thankfully.

Ino and Sakura had seen Gaara, and started to squabble again. Naruto had dragged Gaara back to Sasuke, who cringed, but tried not to, and the chatter started to take up all of Tsunade's thinking space.

She was going to have one massive headache before this was over.

- - - - - - - 

"So, you see, Sasuke? Gaara's my half-brother, so you can't hate him."

Sasuke glowered at Naruto, then looked at Gaara, who looked completely nonchalant. "Why shouldn't I hate him? Just because he's related to you doesn't mean he didn't. . ."

"I'm not sorry," Gaara said, in a monotone. 

Naruto looked at him. "Don't make this difficult, you two, please. . ."

He sighed. It was going to be very difficult to try and unite these two. Gaara was related to him, though. He had some of Naruto's blood in his veins. Naruto had family. Naruto also had Sasuke, but he didn't want to choose between the two of them. He wanted to be able to have big family meals where everyone would come over, and have fun, and talk. He wanted something normal like that.

He couldn't blame Sasuke for not liking Gaara, especially not after Gaara had said that. Gaara was looking Sasuke directly in the eye. "I will say, however, that I am past the stage in my life that made me wish to hurt you, Uchiha."

Sasuke still looked wary. Gaara said nothing more, and turned away. Naruto sighed. "I understand, Sasuke but. . ." 

Sasuke closed his eyes. "I can't just. . .not, Naruto. Not even for you. I can try to get along with him. . .but. He still did what he did."

He bit his lip, and closed his eyes tightly. "I don't want to talk about this."

Thankfully, play practice was almost over, because it was at that point that Sasuke stormed out of the drama room, tearing the dress from his person. Naruto wanted to chase after him, but restrained himself. He ended up chasing after him anyway.

Gaara watched him go, eyes bored and lazy. He snapped his attention to the two females who were currently standing slightly behind him, seemingly slightly wary of each other, and of him. He gave Ino a nod, and then Sakura. "I have a note for you from Temari," he said, blandly, producing the note from his pockets, and handed it to them.

Then, he left, turned about and loped off, like the loner he was. Ino and Sakura were both holding the note. Then they started glaring at each other. "Let me read it!" Sakura said, trying to take the note away from the blonde girl.

"No!" Ino cried. "She clearly meant it was for me!"

"It's for both of us!" Sakura retorted, giving another tug to the paper.

Ino gritted her teeth and pulled back, harder. "Let me read it, big-forehead!"

Sakura stopped pulling, letting her arm go slack, but she didn't let go. Instead, she let Ino tug her closer to her. "Let's read it together," she said, her voice even and clear.

Ino glared at her, for a moment or two, then let her eyes drop to the note in resignation. "Fine," she grumbled.

They leaned in closer together and read what Temari had to say. Then, they paused and looked at each other. Their expressions dropped off, and suddenly, "I'm sorry," wasn't enough.

- - - - - - - -

Hinata found Kiba waiting just outside of the school after the practice ended. She blushed a little bit, and pressed her index fingers together. She didn't know why, exactly, but being in Kiba's presence made her more nervous every time.

He grinned at her. It hurt her to see him smile like that. It reminded her of something she couldn't have. "Hey, Hinata! You were doing great up there!" 

He slid his arm about her, and they walked slowly, easily. She wished she felt calm about him. "Y-you really think so, Kiba?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the ground.

She could see him nod from the corner of her eye. "Yes! You were doing absolutely great."

"Ts-sunade-sensei said I . . .w-was stuttering too much," she murmured, watching as her fingers pressed their pads together, then retracted again, in their continual dance.

Kiba shook his head. "With a bit more practice, you'll get that worked out."

She loved his confidence in her. He acted so much like she had always wished Naruto would. It hurt her. He was a cheap imitation, a rip-off of something she wanted, but didn't have the money to buy. She had to settle for less, something that was like, but not the same.  
"D-do you really think so, Kiba?" she asked, looking up, almost hopefully.

"Of course, Hinata!" Kiba cried, stopping and throwing out his arms. "Why are you always doubting yourself!"

She looked away, and down. "I-I. . .I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't know."

Kiba stopped, dropped his arms, and looked down at the ground. "Don't be sorry," he said, slowly, in a low, almost comforting tone. "It's who you are."

She glanced up at him, and for the first time, noticed just how close he was to her. Not physically, but in his eyes right was a sort of unconfident stride, as if he were someone who didn't know exactly where he was going. "Kiba," she murmured, and reached out for him, unable to stand the kicked puppy that resided in his eyes.

He nearly fell into her embrace, and he hugged her back, as tightly as he could. He was scared of losing her. They were so very, very close, and yet, she was still so removed from him. No matter how far he reached out, he couldn't seem to break the glass that separated them.

And now, he had. 

- - - - - - - -


	40. Patchwork

(Author's Note: Remember: if you're reading, please review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters. Chapter 41 will contain new content. Special thanks to Ruby Love, who originally beta'd this chapter.)

And the Beat Goes On  
Chapter 40: Patchwork

Missing a day of school was one of those fine things, in Naruto's personal opinion. Missing a day of school to try and kick the shit out of some other school in a sport he knew he was good at was one of those imperatives in his life. Missing a day of school and having a chance to make out with Sasuke, while performing the aforementioned imperative of kicking some rival school's ass was, in the blond's humble opinion, a little slice of heaven.

Sure, they were dirty and sweaty. Sure, their uniforms had grass stains, and mud all over, and sure, their hair was plastered to their foreheads from the drenching rain. But, Naruto could get around all of that. So, there they were, in the locker room, by themselves and they had both made sure that the camera Genma-sensei kept in there was turned off. It seemed like it was going to be a good time.

Until, of course, they remembered they hadn't taken off their cleats yet. They remembered how dangerous said footwear could be, when Sasuke nearly caught Naruto in the face. They stopped, and they stared at each other for a moment, before Naruto said, "Maybe we need to take off our shoes."

With that, he pushed away from Sasuke and began to unlace his shoes. Sasuke looked like he was going to sulk for a moment or two, before he followed suit. As luck would have it, in their momentary pause, somebody walked into the locker room. Genma-sensei gave them a strange look, before he continued walking to his office. "Haven't you two left yet?" he asked, shuffling through some files before disappearing into the office.

The door shut and locked behind him. The two students stared after the teacher. Then, Naruto turned to Sasuke and said, in a low whisper, "Let's get out of here."

Sasuke nodded, and huffed, standing up. "I had no idea he was such a lecher," he grumbled, tugging his jersey over his head and changing into a t-shirt. 

Naruto did the same. "Well, you know. He doesn't have a girlfriend, or whatever, so -"

Sasuke paused, half-way out of his shorts, and gave Naruto a look that clearly said, "Oh, you don't know?"

"Genma-sensei's not getting any 'cause Hayate-sensei's got . . .whatever the hell he's got," the older boy said, then quickly turned his attention back to his pants.   
Naruto looked dumbstruck for a moment or two, before he glanced toward the office door. "They're together?" he hissed, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Sasuke.

The dark-haired boy shrugged, and started throwing things back into his gym bag. "That's what I've heard," he said, voice falling back to its regular monotone.

Naruto rolled his eyes. "That's what you've heard," he grumbled. "That is so reassuring."

Sasuke shrugged and closed the bag, the sound the zipper was making echoing, or seeming to, in the empty room. "I've also heard that Hayate-sensei's got AIDS."

Naruto stopped, pausing in the middle of his action. "Really? That's horrible," he said, and he looked down at his feet.

He frowned in thought. He knew the disease was something that homosexuals were more susceptible to, but he had never thought that it would affect somebody he knew personally, let alone a teacher. He thought about Iruka, and then, about Kakashi. Either one of them could have had it, and never known, and infected the other. It didn't matter so much to Kakashi now, but Iruka. . .what about Iruka? Iruka could have it. Iruka could be dying.

He glanced over at Sasuke, somewhat worriedly, and then, thought about Gaara, and then, his thoughts were thrown back to his dead mother, and what she had died of. He supposed it was so very easy to get sick. Why was something that was so good also so very dangerous for them?

Sasuke was glaring at him now, somewhat nervously. Naruto wondered why, then remembered he was probably staring, and shook himself free of his stupor. "Er. . .sorry," he mumbled, putting a hand behind his head.

Sasuke looked down in an instant. "You spaced out," he said, almost softly.

Naruto muttered another apology, and then, tossed his gym bag over his shoulder. "Ready to go?" he asked, turning about and making a move to go toward the door.

"Sure," Sasuke replied, following suit, and walking by him to the door, and then, out of it, into the hall. Naruto marvelled at the way Sasuke changed roles so easily, slipping from leader to follower, and back again in a few seconds.

He barely made it out the door before it swung shut again. It was a heavy door, and he had to put most of his weight behind it. Sasuke was waiting in the hall for him, impatiently. "Hurry up, slow poke," he said, though his tone, and his eyes held a note of something more than teasing.

Naruto stuck his tongue out at him. "Yessir," he said, and walked away from the door as it banged shut. He jogged part of the way down the hall, to where Sasuke was standing, and then, by him, toward their lockers. "Race ya there!" he called, and darted off.  
Sasuke grit his teeth, but gave in to the chase nonetheless. He went a different route than Naruto, figuring he knew the faster way to their lockers. His feet pounded across the floor, down two flights of stairs, to the other end of the basement hall, and up another set of stairs, taking them two or three at a time.

He shot around a corner, and ran smack-dab into Naruto. "Ow!" the blond complained loudly, stumbling backward and rubbing his nose.

Sasuke refrained from whining, wincing or rubbing his nose. Instead, he settled for glaring at the other boy. "Dobe!" he barked. "What the hell are you doing over here? Your locker's that way."

He pointed to accentuate his point, and he jabbed his finger in the general direction that Naruto had obviously come from. The blond glowered at him from behind his hands. "I was there, and then I thought I lost you, so I came back to see if I could find you, your bitchiness." 

Sasuke grumbled and crossed his arms. Naruto grinned broadly. "But," he chirped brightly, "I found you and that means, I won!"

"You did not," Sasuke shot back, growling. He really was a sore loser.

"I did so!" Naruto cheered, sticking out his tongue, childishly. Gods, how he loved to provoke Sasuke.

The older boy did something incredibly childish. He pushed Naruto. Naruto stumbled backward into a locker, and looked a bit stunned. Then, he growled and shoved Sasuke back. So, a war began and they pushed each other back and forth for several minutes, before they were locked in a bit of a stalemate. They grinned at each other. "Okay, teme, we'll have another race," the blond said. 

"Sure," Sasuke replied. "This time, I get a head start."

Naruto shook his head. "Oh, no, no, no. No head starts, Uchiha. That's like. . .cheating."

"Are you saying you're a cheater, Uzumaki?"

They glared at each other for a moment or two, and then, still smirking, they let go of each other, at the same instance in time, and dashed off down the hall. Sometimes, their ability to read the other's motions was somewhat scary.

They were neck in neck most of the way down the hall, and to the locker. Sasuke won out at the last second, somehow managing to summon energy that Naruto didn't have after playing soccer like he was being chased by hell hounds all day. And so, Sasuke pulled away from him, just a bit, enough to beat him to the locker, but not enough that Naruto couldn't reach out, grab the back of his shirt, and drag him down.  
They landed in a clumsy heap in front of the locker, limbs all tangled up, and twisted in strange ways that limbs are probably better off not twisting. They lay there, dazed for a moment or two, before Sasuke winced, and tried to extract himself from the mess. Naruto was a bit of a deadweight, and really didn't help the process much.

The blond finally came back to himself, and sat up, rolling off of Sasuke. The dark-haired boy sat up, able to breathe at last, without feeling as if there were a leaden weight trying to crush him. "Ugh, Naruto," he grumbled, "you are such a klutz."

He shot the blond a glare, who grinned back at him sheepishly. "Aha, sorry. Are you okay?"

Naruto crawled a bit closer to the other boy, putting a hand gently to one pale cheek. Sasuke jerked away from the touch and started to get up. "I am just fine," he growled, angrily. Naruto had done a fine job in pissing him off.

He didn't fail to notice that Sasuke was limping a bit, probably as a result from the incident in the pool two nights ago. The dark-haired boy growled and opened Naruto's locker, and started rooting through it. "What do you need out of here?" he asked, with a growl. 

"Uh," Naruto replied.

"Binder?"

"No. . ."

"Coat?"

"No. . ."

And so, it went on, this book, that book, until Sasuke slammed the locker shut, screaming, "Do you need anything out of here!"

The blond thought for a moment, then shook his head, and grinned. "Nope." 

Sasuke growled, and locked the locker, then walked away, toward the doors near the music room. Naruto stared after him, then started to run. "Hey, hey, Sasuke! Wait up!"

He caught Sasuke, because the older boy was still limping a bit. He smiled winningly. "I'm really sorry," he said. "Let me walk you home."

"I don't need your help, Uzumaki," he growled, making motions to walk around the blond and away. Naruto clamped his hands down on his shoulders and held him firmly in place.

"I've told you before, you don't have to be so cold. Now, just drop the bastard act, and let me walk with you."

Sasuke snorted, then looked away. "Fine," he sneered, relenting at last. "But you don't need to hold my hand or anything dumb like that." 

"Why not?" Naruto asked, doing his best to look innocent. "I want to hold you hand." Sasuke glowered. "People will stare. They'll have questions."

"So?" Naruto retorted. "Let them stare!"

He waved his arms about wildly, and nearly hit Iruka in the face as the teacher walked out of the music room. "Naruto!" the brunet man barked, and the blond teen spun about to face him, apparently startled by the teacher's sudden appearance. 

"Iruka!" he cried, blinking. "When did you get here?" 

"Just in time for you to nearly hit me in the face," the teacher grumbled, giving the blond a dark, but humorous look.

The teacher was loaded down with books and binders, but he was managing. He had his car keys in his hand. He glanced back over his shoulder as he walked away. "Did you want a ride home?" he asked Naruto, smiling.

"I'd love that, Iruka!" the blond cheered, but glanced at Sasuke. "But I was going to walk Sasuke-teme here home first. He hurt his leg during the game."

Iruka's gaze shifted to Sasuke, and he gave him a sympathetic look. The other teen shot Naruto a sizzling glare. "Why did you lie?" his eyes hissed. Naruto laughed, a little nervously.

"Sasuke could come home with us, if he wants," Iruka told Naruto. "I was going to order out for dinner, if that's all right with you."

"Sure!" Naruto cried. "That sounds great! What do you say, Sasuke? Wanna come over for dinner?"

Sasuke debated the pros and cons of that, but realizing that he would probably just go home to a night of homework, his brother and Orochimaru, going home with Naruto sounded like a pleasant alternative. "Sure," he said, with a shrug, and a nonchalant look.

"Great!" Naruto exclaimed, grabbing Sasuke by the arm and dragging him outside, toward the car. "Last one to the car's a rotten egg!" he yelled, childishly, glancing back at Iruka as the door to the building fell closed.

The teacher shook his head in amusement. Naruto smiled broadly. The sun was shining brightly, and it looked like things were going his way again.  
- - - - - - - - - - -

"Short Stuff's not home yet?"

Itachi grunted, something that was probably supposed to mean either yes or no, though one could rarely tell what he meant at all. "No, huhn? Well, I guess that means you and I are here alone."

Itachi still said nothing. Orochimaru turned away from the window, looking back at the teen on the bed. He was sorting through various offers of admission from various universities. He had two things going for him, really, to the universities. One, he had money, and two, he had excellent grades. Itachi rarely scored less than one hundred on anything he did. Orochimaru knew he wouldn't stand a chance against Itachi. He wasn't even going to try for university.

"So?" he asked the stoic boy, who didn't even dare look up from his papers. "What do you want for dinner?" 

Itachi shrugged. "Not all that hungry," he replied, and went back to poring over the papers.

Orochimaru snorted. "Fine, be that way," he grumbled, and headed out of the room. 

Itachi glanced up as the door shut, and then, he looked back at the blurry words on the page. He sighed heavily, then moved away from the mass of papers, sliding down, down, down, off the bed, onto the floor. He crossed his legs, and he sat there, hidden from view by the bed. He pushed his head back against the mattress, and closed his eyes.

He had been sure Orochimaru was going to catch on. He was glad he was somehow able to keep himself reigned in, under control. It would have been very messy if Orochimaru discovered his secrets. Everything would be messy if anybody found out his secrets. He felt a bit shaky now, and he wasn't sure if it was adrenaline, sprouted from fear, in his veins, or the drugs. He couldn't dare let this slip to anyone.

A few minutes later, the telephone was ringing, and Itachi just barely registered the noise in his head and made sense of it. Everything was foggy. Everything seemed to be ten times removed, and he was just sitting in a vast well of nothingness.

Orochimaru came thundering back up the stairs, his footsteps muffled by carpet, and he knocked on the door. Itachi didn't have to answer that knocking, because Orochimaru knew this was probably the one place he was always welcome. Well, almost always welcome, at the very least.

"Hey," the older teen said, almost snarling, crouching down beside him. The door was still open behind them, a gaping mouth, ready to devour them whole.

Itachi glanced at him, dully. He hoped he didn't look too far gone. "That was your aunt on the phone," he said, slowly, unsure of the younger boy's expression, "your great-grandmother just died."

"Oh," was all Itachi could seem to find to say. Orochimaru frowned, and studied the younger teen intensely.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked finally, reaching out to put a hand to his forehead. Itachi jerked away instinctively.

"I'm fine," he growled, then closed his eyes. Orochimaru could leave any time now. Really. He could. Itachi would be perfectly happy if the other boy just went back downstairs.

"Are you sure you don't want dinner?"

He shook his head, and Orochimaru shrugged, then stood. "Well, whatever you say," he replied nonchalantly, and then, he left the room.

Once outside of the room, he frowned and shut the door, slowly. He looked at the floor, giving it a hard glare. He chewed his lip a bit. He knew Itachi was lying to him. The Uchiha heir wasn't feeling well. He had a feeling he knew why, and he was pretty sure this had to do with the little brown paper bag stashed away in the very top cupboard.

"Fuck," he muttered, and tossed a glare at the door, before he stormed downstairs.

He was going to strangle Kabuto when he saw him next. This really was the last thing he needed in his life. He wasn't going to watch Itachi throw everything he had away for some stupid drug addiction. He wasn't going to watch the damned substances destroy another person. He wasn't going to watch Itachi destroy himself. He was tired of being the spectator in this mob of a society that demanded the blood of others.

He swept into the kitchen, and he fished around in the cupboards until he came up with the little paper bag, and then, he threw it into the trash can, cursing it in his head, and hoping to incinerate it with his eyes. Gods, gods, gods, how could Itachi be so stupid? How could he be so blind? How could he be so incredibly willing to throw his entire life down the drain? He wanted to strangle the snotty Uchiha heir.

Huffing, he sat down at the table, and began drumming his fingers on the table. His appetite was doused now too, though by rage, and not anything else.

- - - - - - - -

Play practice was, once again, a nightmare. Tsunade wasn't sure how much longer she could put up with this sort of behaviour, and she most certainly wasn't sure she was going to make it through, at least, not with her sanity intact. She was already tugging at her hair, and the rehearsal had just commenced five minutes ago.  
Hinata was late. If that wasn't something altogether unheard of, Tsunade didn't know what was. Hinata, through her upbringing and her own nature, was never, ever late. Tsunade knew the girl had been at school, at the very least, because she was in one of her literature classes during the afternoon. She would have thought the girl would have mentioned any appointments to her.

Ino and Sakura were pointedly not talking to each other, which was incredibly problematic, as Sakura was playing the Nurse, and Ino was playing Lady Capulet. Today was also the day that they would be practising the most humourous scene in the play, which, unfortunately, called for Ino and Sakura to converse.

A third problem was the obvious tension between Sasuke and Gaara. They were avoiding each other as if they suspected each had the plague, and poor Naruto was caught in the middle, trying to be the peacemaker. He was being skewered with glares from both sides. Tsunade, for once in her life, actually pitied the blond brat. 

This was going to be a long, long hour and a half.

- - - - - -

Sasuke was, to say the very least, uncomfortable standing beside Gaara, even if Naruto was standing between them. He shifted from foot to foot, dissatisfied with the protection that was placed between himself and Gaara. He didn't think Naruto could stand up to the redhead.

He didn't like being this uncomfortable. He hated feeling insecure. But sure enough, there was the feeling, seizing all his limbs, and binding them together, so that he was just a big bundle of nerves and nervousness. Gaara had torn him apart so very easily. Gaara was something he had to be scared of, and he hated being scared of things. Why was he this pathetic?

He shifted again, and looked down at the ground, at the way his feet moved. Had he always been this pathetic? Yes, he probably had. He was nothing, scrounging in his brother's shadow, blinded by the years of darkness, and Gaara was a vampire, something horrific, something more powerful that swooped down from the rafters and tore at him. He couldn't see that sort of power, but he knew it was there.

Naruto was a flimsy wall of peace between them, trying so very hard to reconcile - though it was hardly reconciling as they had never been friends in the first place - them, and offering them terse smiles that begged them to get along. Really, they both knew Naruto wasn't a wall of peace, but really a wall to separate, to keep the other from getting into the other boy, the weaker boy, the one that wished he could stop his knees from knocking together, and wished that his eyesight wasn't so very gone. 

Sasuke wanted to run away. He wanted to get out from underneath the shadows, but he had to cling to the wall, hug that wall so tightly that he was part of it, so that he could be safe, and even then, he was vulnerable. Gaara's cold gaze was on him, even when it wasn't, and he could feel the freeze burrowing into his marrow. He was so pathetic. He probably deserved this. The weak were afraid, and he deserved to be weak, to be afraid.

- - - - - - - - - -

Gaara wasn't exactly sure why he'd come back to society. Maybe it was because the sunny weather had gone away, and everything was grey. Everything was grey in the city, and maybe it was dreary, but at least it stayed the same. The changing seasons came and went, and left him cold. The wind was bitter and the rain was acid.

Whatever the reason, he had returned. He had gone back, turned away, and he had forgotten the rolling expanse of eternal nature into forever, and he went back to the city, where the skyscrapers rose, like perfect teeth, aligned in neat rows, to pierce that the sky. He went back to the city, the perfect example of man trying to destroy nature, to tame her, and to own her.

He had shown up in the dark of the night, and even in the shadows, Temari had recognized him. She had let him in, for some reason also unknown, and they had not spoken to each other. There were no words they needed to speak. Gaara had returned, and that was all. Their relationship had always been one constructed out of silence.

So, he bathed and ate, and he slept in that tiny, crowded apartment, and surprisingly, he didn't feel any claustrophobia. Perhaps the world had been a little too big for him, and he was happy to have it shrunken back down to this small, small place. It was easier to take in, and easier to manage. He had no control over the outside world. Here, he had all the control. Here was his domain.

Temari had put him back in school. She had always been an advocate of education, even if she herself lacked one. She was stuck in the bottom of the working world, and she knew exactly why. She had pushed Kankuro to return to school after he dropped out, but he would have none of it. 

Gaara had no goals in life, unlike Kankuro, so he allowed his sister to try to sway him. He didn't care what she did. As long as she wasn't trying to kill him, she could do as she pleased. And that was how he ended up back in Konoha High, back there, with Naruto and Sasuke standing there.

He didn't regret anything he'd done, or anything he'd ever said. He didn't care that he was the reason that Uchiha Sasuke was being so fidgety, so utterly petrified of him and nervous, and concealing it very poorly. He just didn't care.

- - - - - - - -

Sakura and Ino hadn't said anything to each other in two whole days. It was a sad sort of fact that they hadn't spoken, because neither of them could seem to find the words to apologize. "I'm sorry" didn't seem, somehow, to suffice, and neither of them could think of anything more original. There was also the added factor that whoever apologized first would probably accept the blame for the entire mess. Neither one spoke, waiting for the other to spoke. These were the limitations of rivalry that they had come to accept.

The letter from Temari had been something that enlightened them, pissed them off thoroughly and made them want to cry, all at once. It was one of those silly things. It had said, "I broke you two up so I could make you realize just how important you are to each other. . .and so I could screw around with you too." Of course, the actual wording was a lot more flowery, but in the end, that was what the words boiled down to.

As it was now, Sakura was sitting there, thinking. She wanted to say something to Ino, but she knew the first thing she needed to say was, "I'm sorry." She wasn't going to apologize first though, because none of this was her fault. But she had recognized that they needed to get back at Temari, somehow, because it was her who had started this stupid war in the first place. She wanted to come up with some sort of ingenious plan, some sort of revenge tactic, but right now, all she could think of was, "that crazy bitch." It wasn't the most helpful thought in the world.

She glanced at Ino, who had her back turned to her. She was talking to Tsunade, and she was very pointedly ignoring her. Tsunade looked as if she was about to have several veins in her head burst, from pure frustration. Sakura winced, and looked away.

Slowly, very slowly, she came to the realization that the best revenge they had was acting as they were right then and there. They weren't getting back together, not like Temari had expressed a wish for them to do. They were pushing each other away and while it served Temari right for being a meddling psycho, it hurt more than Sakura would ever care to admit.

They were stuck. They could have revenge, and they could go on acting this way, and they could go on fighting and pushing each other away. They could go on pretending not to care at all. They could scream and yell and point at each other, and they could act as if they were enemies, and they could continue this way and have their revenge. Or, they could reconcile and apologize, and then, they wouldn't have their revenge. It was one or the other, and they couldn't have both. 

Sighing, she stood up. There was a bit of activity going on. Tsunade must have called everyone to take their places. She didn't know. She was thinking too hard. She needed to be in the here and the now for what she was going to do next.

Ino was still standing with her back to her, where Tsunade had left her when she moved away to bark instructions to other people. She didn't notice the pink-haired teen approaching, and she only saw her at the very last second, from the corner of her eye. She turned about, and Sakura was standing right there, pinning her with a glare. "Ino," she said. 

She was going to be the bigger person here. Ino glanced down. She knew the way they were acting was childish, and not at all a way to solve all the problems they had been handed. She knew the silent treatment wouldn't "teach Sakura a lesson", and she knew that not speaking to her was only prolonging the torture of them both. 

"Sakura," she said.  
They'd been thinking and thinking, and neither one had found any better solution than this. "I'm sorry," they blurted at the same time, and they glanced up from their feet.

They accepted the blame the other placed on them, and blame was nullified. They were forgiven. It didn't matter anymore. They had both hurt, and it was because they had both been blind. They had opened their eyes now, and Temari wasn't going to get them any longer. They weren't going to hurt any longer. They were going to let the other girl soothe away the abrasions they had suffered.

"Ice cream after this is over?" Ino asked, still ashamed and trying to keep her gaze level with Sakura's, without lifting her head. Lifting her head would mean she thought she was haughty, that she was better than Sakura.

The pink-haired girl nodded. "That would be wonderful," she said, a shy, half-smile plucking at her lips.

They might have hugged, and they might have even gone so far as to kiss, but this was not a private place, and those things were meant to be kept behind closed doors. They would have time for those things later.

- - - - - - - - -

Hinata wasn't at all sure she liked Kiba's house. His home was crowded, and dirty, and it gave away much more of an air that it was lived in, unlike her own house, but somehow, somewhere, there was a malice that it contained. The shadows seemed too deep, and every creaking floorboard would give away her presence. There was a monster, somewhere, waiting to swallow her up.

Akamaru was sweet. He was pure white, and he followed her, happily, nipping at her heels, then hopping away, and running ahead of her, then coming back, his pink little tongue lolling from his mouth. He wagged his tail furiously when she scratched behind his floppy ears. He was a sweet puppy.

Kiba had gone upstairs to get the little dog's leash. They were going to take him for a walk. Hinata knew she wasn't terribly instrumental in the parts of the play they were practising today, and she had left school with Kiba. She wanted to spend more time with him. She felt as if she had been lacking in her devotion to him over the past few months, and now, she owed it to him to be with him. He was a scared puppy, and she had to make him feel as if she wasn't going to kick him anymore than she already had. Her ignorance of him had been something she found unforgivable to herself. Wasn't she his girlfriend?

She wished he would come back now. She was beginning to get nervous, standing there in the foyer, and she was waiting for that monster to jump out and get her. Akamaru barked happily and ran after a ball she threw for him. He came trotting back with it, and the house was quiet. The puppy was happy with himself, and he looked smug. She smiled a little bit. 

Kiba came clattering down the stairs, noisy as ever, with a red leash held in his hand. Akamaru dropped the ball, and looked at his master, spotting the leash almost instantly. He started to yip excitedly, and bounded over to Kiba.

He paused halfway there, and started to bark, heading back toward the door. Hinata glanced at the dog, then at Kiba, and she winced when she heard a car door slam shut. Kiba's face seemed to bleach, and he looked scared. She glanced back at the door.

The door swung open, and a young woman walked into the house. She looked a lot like Kiba, and she leant down the scratch at Akamaru's ears, even though her arms were full of bags. She glanced up a Kiba. Hinata glanced at him too. He looked relieved.

"It's just you," he muttered, sounding as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and he came the rest of the way down the stairs, to stand beside Hinata.

The woman made a face. "And it's just you," she returned, sardonically. "Honestly, what kind of greeting is that, Kiba?" 

She brushed by them, giving Hinata a curt nod, but not speaking to her. She looked at Kiba, who shrugged and moved away. He caught Akamaru and put the leash on the puppy, who started barking again, and chasing his tail about in excited circles. He motioned to Hinata to follow, and they went out the door.

They walked part of the way down the street in silence, Akamaru barking at the cars that drove by, and Kiba yanking him back from the edge of the sidewalk. "Stupid mutt," he muttered, tightening his grip on the lead. "He likes to chase cars."

Hinata giggled a little bit, but returned to a more sombre state. They kept walking. It was a nice day, and she was glad she had decided to skip play practice. Sometimes, living in the real world was better than playing in a pretend one. "Kiba?" she asked at last, giving him a sidelong glance.

"Hm?" was his reply, as he tried to stop Akamaru from digging up somebody's flowers.

"Who was that woman?" she asked, trying her best not to sound anything but curious.

"Hm?" Kiba said, turning about to face her, letting Akamaru return to his frantic uprooting of the flora. "Her? She's my sister."

"Oh," she said, and nodded, before turning back.

Kiba yelled a bit at Akamaru and tugged the puppy away from the flowerbed. Akamaru acted as if nothing had happened and went on trotting down the street. She walked beside Kiba. "I didn't know you had a sister," she said.  
"Ah, yeah," Kiba said, "she doesn't live at home. Well, didn't. She was living with her boyfriend, but they just broke up. So, she's moving back in."

"Oh, I see," Hinata said, letting her gaze drop to the ground. The sidewalk was disgusting, covered in all sorts of multicoloured spots. She didn't dare to think about what they might have been once upon a time.

"I thought it might have been my mom," the boy continued. They were walking along now, with hardly any interruption. Akamaru seemed to think behaving was a good thing to be doing now.

"Oh?" she said, glancing up again, and absently forcing her forefingers together in nervous habit. Kiba nodded, hearing the unasked question in her voice. "Yeah. Eh. . .my mom's not the most pleasant person right after work. I don't know as though she would have been. . .entirely pleased to meet you."

He was silent, and Hinata was left to speculate on the truth of his words. They might have been true, but they also might have been a bit of a cover. She could only think of one reason that Kiba's mother wouldn't be impressed to meet her, and that was because she was a Hyuuga.

She was well aware that Kiba didn't come from the richest of backgrounds, and that a lot of people who weren't in the best financial situations viewed the Hyuuga family with some contempt. People who were economically depressed often saw the Hyuugas as their oppressors, because they were rich.

Some people, even those who weren't poor, also disliked the Hyuugas because of their wealth and power. Some people resented them for both of these things, and others resented them simply for their wealth, or simply for their sway in all things political. Other people still thought they were snobs, just as all affluent types were stereotyped to be, and hated them for being haughty. Hinata didn't know, but she really didn't think she would cut it as a snob or a haughty heiress. She'd probably failed miserably, like she did at most other things.

Kiba shifted in the silence, and he could only guess that Hinata had caught on to the truth beneath his words. He liked Hinata, and she was a nice girl, but he knew his mother wouldn't be able to get past her stereotyping of people. His mother hated the Hyuugas, partially for having everything she wanted, and partially because she thought all of the Hyuugas were rich snobs. Maybe if it hadn't been painfully obvious what family Hinata belonged to, his mother might have been able to accept her as a person before she learned who she really was.

Hinata's eyes gave her away in an instant, and he knew his mother wouldn't be able to get past that. He knew she would get stuck at those eyes, at that surname and she would brand Hinata the haughty heiress, even when Hinata stumbled over her words, and was painfully shy. The woman wouldn't be able to move beyond her bigotry and meet the person Hinata really was.

He didn't want Hinata to meet his mother. He didn't want his mother to meet Hinata, because he was afraid that her steadfast opinions might drive the shy girl away. He didn't want that. He wanted to leave all of the preconceived notions that they might have about each other out of their relationship. He wanted them to be Hinata and Kiba to each other, and nothing more. He wanted them to be human beings, not separated by class, or by stereotypes. He wanted their relationship to be as pure as it could be, not marked by the notion that maybe, just maybe, he wanted to get in with her, just because she was rich. 

He didn't want to mess this up.

- - - - - - - - 

Neji was a bit apprehensive about walking into that room, even if he didn't show it. His face was, as always, a mask of nothing, a stoic, empty expression taking its coveted seat upon his features.

Beyond that door was something he wanted to see, and something he didn't want to see at the same time. Beyond that door was Tenten, and he wanted to see her, but he didn't want to see her either. Beyond that door was his child, a child that was his and he wanted to see it, but he didn't want to see it either.

But who was he to bow to indecisiveness? He forewent his emotions, pushed past them, just as he pushed past the physical barrier of the door, and walked into the room. It banged shut behind him, forcing him to stay, no matter how much he wanted to bolt. To bolt was to belay his pride.

Tenten was sitting up. Her hair was all across her face, and she looked tired. She looked as if she were in a bit of pain. Actually, she looked like she'd been through hell and back, and now, she was sitting there, in excruciating pain. She should have been lying down. She'd just been cut open, and sown back up again. 

She gave him a weak smile, before she flopped back against the pillows and he gave her a strange, searching look. "How are you feeling?" he asked her, and he tried to make his voice less stiff, and less formal that it came out.

She closed her eyes and nodded a little bit. Her smile was trembling at the corners, threatening to fall at any given moment. "I'm all right," she replied, and her voice was very tired and very, very soft. She was subdued.

Something was wrong here, he realized, and he glanced about, searching desperately to place the feeling of misplacement in the room. What was wrong? There was something that definitely wasn't right here, but he couldn't find out what, so he moved closer to her.

He sat down on the very edge of the bed, but refrained from touching her, though he wanted to reach out and brush the hair out of her eyes. She didn't seem to have the strength to do it herself, and he didn't have the strength to be tender and gentle with her. He was silent, and she rested there for a moment or two.  
"Is it a -" he started, but she cut him off, giving him a weak smile again.

"A boy," she said, her voice so soft, so subdued. "It was a boy."

He was wary of the way she phrased that. "And?" he asked, glancing about the room, and noting the lack of the child.

She shook her head, and looked down. Her lips were pursed tightly together, and she was looking down. Her eyes were closed. "Intensive care," she murmured softly, very subdued. "He nearly strangled. They don't think he'll live."

He didn't know what to say to that. He had never been a tender person, and now, when he wanted to be supportive most, he was lost on how to do so. So, he sat there, and he folded his hands in his lap. He looked down, at the floor, and he didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to comfort, and he let the tears dribble down her face when he should have wiped them away.

- - - - - - -

There was a car in the driveway when Iruka came home. It looked like a fairly new car, and Iruka was wary of it. He didn't know anybody who drove a car like that, a sports car, decked out in red. He frowned.

He unlocked the door, and he went inside. There had been nothing turned on, and all the lights were off. He wondered why the car was in the driveway. He frowned some more and set down his marking on the table, along with his keys.

He walked to the dining room, around the grand piano, and to the sliding door. The gate to the fence was unlocked, and he made a face. The driver of that car was probably in his backyard and he wanted to know why.

He opened up the slider and walked outside. He had no shoes on, and the grass tickled the bottoms of his feet, sharply. It was almost like stabbing. He ignored it, and he marched outside, toward the pond.

There was a young woman sitting there, looking at the fish in the pond. She had her back turned to him, and he couldn't see her face. Her hair was pulled up in a sort of knot on her head, and she was wearing some pretty strange clothing. He wondered who she was.

"Hello?" he called to her at last, stopping a few feet away from her. He didn't want to get too close to her, just in case she was dangerous.

She turned about at the sound of his voice, and he swore his heart must have stopped when he saw her face. It wasn't a face he had expected to come creeping about this place in a long, long time.

- - - - - -


	41. GuiltTrip

(Author's Note: New chapter! Chapter 42 should be coming in about two weeks. If you read, please remember to review! Warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters.

Special thanks to Ruby Love for beta'ing.

Thanks to the people who reviewed Chapter 40 the first time around: Yit-ha, Melrose Stormhaven, Maskoftime, Crimson Anjel, The Spore Whore, Kasumi, cabbagehobbit, and Yami no Tenshi.

And now, on with the fic!)

And the Beat Goes On

Chapter 41: Guilt-Trip

Iruka had definitely never expected his step-sister to actually know where he lived. But, nevertheless, there she was, standing in his garden. He shifted nervously. "Anko?" he asked, a little apprehensive of her presence there. "What are you doing here?"

He tried to laugh, but it was a choked little sound, and he hated how it sounded. It let her know he was nervous. She shrugged a bit, and he noted now that she seemed to be a little more subdued, though her clothes were still just as horrific as ever.

He wanted nothing more in that moment than for her to go away. She and he had never seen eye to eye, and he was wary of her. She seemed to be far too relaxed, far too uncaring. He was the nervous fish, tiptoeing around this waiting shark. She was watching him, waiting for him to fumble again.

Was she here about Konohamaru? He hoped not. The boy was three months dead. She had to have known about the little boy's death before now. Other family members would have told her, wouldn't they? Unless, of course, she hadn't been in contact with anyone until now. He hoped she wasn't here about Konohamaru. He didn't want to speak of that. . .

But why else would she suddenly appear in his backyard? Why else, why else indeed. She had no motives to come and see him. His heart sunk in his chest. He didn't want to speak about Konohamaru, not even now. He'd tried so very hard to remove himself from the event, to put himself back in the reality he existed in, and tried to smile and tried to forget. He tried so very hard to be like his Naruto. Naruto had been upset, he knew. Naruto had been upset by a lot of things in his life, and somehow, Iruka rarely, if ever, saw the tears. Naruto seemed overt in his emotions, but he kept all his pain somewhere in the shadows of the night. He kept his pain in his memories, no doubt, and when he locked those away and focussed on the here and the now, he could wear a smile.

He wondered if that was what Anko did. Her personality was a mask, a raucous cry for attention, and somehow, now that he understood Naruto, it seemed to fit his stepsister in a way that he had never noticed before. Perhaps he shouldn't view her with such distaste.

Brown eyes met brown eyes. Anko's eyes looked so dull and dead. He wondered at that, and somehow, it made him want to wince. She looked away suddenly, violently, as if she couldn't hold his gaze. It was strange. She had always been the more domineering of them.

Her eyes were moving now, scanning the garden, faster and faster. She knew he was watching her, and she didn't dare glance back at him. Her arms were folded across her chest, and her entire posture suggested she felt endangered. "Konohamaru's not here?" she said finally, and her voice was very loud, as if she were trying to mask something.

He gave her a blank look when she glanced back at him, waiting for his response, and then, he shook his head. Very slowly, he shook his head, left, and then right, and he let his gaze fall toward the ground. He didn't dare look up at her.

"It's true then," she said, and then, there was a thick, awkward silence that fell across them, like a heavy curtain falling between them. All the sound was suddenly and unforgivingly blocked out.

Somewhere, possibly in the ancient oak tree, a bird was calling. The pond's pump was filtering water, and the sound of running water was ever present. It all seemed to be distorted in Iruka's ears, muffled and far away. He was removed from the entire situation, and he wished he could hear the calming sounds more clearly than he could hear that high-pitched screaming and the buckling and breaking of metal. He wished he had been knocked unconscious when they first started rolling. He wished he'd woke up with all of his memories burned, and destroyed by the fire that had consumed the vehicle. He wished he didn't remember anything of this place, of that accident.

He glanced up at her, and realized that he'd bit his lip. Then, without really giving himself time to take in her expression, he looked back at the ground, at the emotionless stones in his patio. How did they manage to stay so stoic? "Yeah," he said, slowly, trying very hard to make the words stay tucked away inside him, but also recognizing them that they needed to come out, "it's true."

The heavy curtain continued to be there between them. Even if she couldn't quite make out the words because of the barrier, she would still understand. She would still understand. She wasn't a monster. She had some sort of human intuition. She would understand what he meant, even without the words. After all, words were merely symbols for concepts. He would never have to repeat what he said.

She was sober for once. It was strange to see her completely and utterly subdued like she was, after all the times he'd seen her so drunken, so high, and so rowdy by nature. Now, she was standing there, with her face pulled down by the weight of gravity, by the weight of the years that proved she was no longer a teenager. She must have been getting close to thirty, he realized, and he felt a faint bit of shock when he found he could make out the lines in her face, despite all the make-up she had applied, desperately trying to hide them. It was strange. He had resigned himself to the fact that he would get older, and eventually, die, but he had never thought about her aging. It was as if he had thought she would remain as she was forever, always seventeen, always Anko.

Poor Anko, he thought, poor Anko. She had always tried so very hard to be grown up, or at least, her version of grown up. She had worn more make-up in high school than most movie stars, and she had dressed in a scandalous fashion, somehow convinced that having sex appeal, and having sex, somehow made you an adult.

And now, here she was, all grown up and trying desperately to hide it. She didn't want the world to know that she wasn't seventeen anymore. She had always partied hard, and drank and smoked, and now, the wear and the tear showed on her. She wanted that lifestyle for herself, and she kept it, but it was slowly pulling her apart at the seams, slowly making her older than anyone else she probably knew. She wore make-up, she dressed strange, and she still partied as if she was seventeen, as if to hold on to her youth, but she was so old because of it. Poor Anko. He could only imagine her when she was fifty, still clawing desperately at the days of her youth, and she would not go peacefully into old age. All he could think was that she had resigned herself to a fate of plastic surgery and younger men. She would always try to fool them into thinking that she was younger than she really was.

"Thank you," she said presently, and her tone was clipped, curt, and somewhere deep down, hurt. "I'll be going now."

She had nothing more to say to him, and on some level, that hurt a bit. They were supposedly family, weren't they? And on some level, he didn't care because that was Anko, and this kind of thing was all he could expect from her.

And somehow, he got the feeling she blamed him. Perhaps it was the fact that he had been in charge of Konohamaru when the accident happened. Perhaps she felt that he should have somehow prevented it, somehow miraculously saved Konohamaru. Perhaps she thought he should have never let the little boy get in that car. But whatever she thought, she hadn't been there, and he doubted that she would have done any of those things she expected him to do to save the little boy. And yet, she blamed him.

Perhaps he deserved it. Perhaps he should have tried a little harder to keep Konohamaru safe, but one simply couldn't live one's life in perpetual paranoia that oneself, or others around oneself were going to die. How was he to know that letting Konohamaru get in the car that day would prove fatal? How was that death his fault? How was the car accident his fault? But he felt it was.

He stood there in the garden, thinking, and there was a few moments between the initial slam of the back door, and the roar of an engine. He could only presume that was Anko's car that had been sitting in the driveway, and that Anko was now in said car, driving away. He didn't budge.

He stood there, and he thought. He thought about himself, and he thought about her, and he thought about Konohamaru and Kakashi. He thought, and he thought for quite a while, and he tried to get to the root of why he felt so goddamned guilty when he knew it couldn't have been helped. He wondered if he would have felt guilty today if Anko hadn't blamed him. He wondered if he would have felt guilty for all the tomorrows that existed in his future. He was no saviour. He couldn't see the future and there was no way he could have prevented what had happened. There was no use in feeling guilty for it, but he blamed himself, even if Anko didn't. He blamed himself for letting them die.

He tended to blame himself for things that he had no control over. He blamed himself when his parents had split up. It had been his fault. It hadn't really been his fault, but at the time, he'd truly believed it was his fault. It was his fault every time his father hit his mother, and it was his fault that they divorced.

It had also been his fault that his mother remarried. It was his fault, and he deserved a stepsister such as Anko. It was his fault when she got teased, and it was his fault when the other kids came down on her, because, somehow, he couldn't protect her. She didn't want to be protected, though.

He blamed himself all the time for students who failed his course. It didn't matter if they cut classes all the time, or if they simply didn't apply themselves. It was still his fault, and in the end, somehow, he was at fault. He was the teacher after all, and if a student flunked, it was just further proof of his own incompetence.

The sound of the car engine died away and he stood there, feeling empty and forsaken. The bird in the tree had flown away now. The water was still running, though. He happened to glance down at the pond, and there was a flash of something metallic as the sun hit the water's surface. He winced, and looked away. "What the. . ."

He crouched down near the edge of the pond, and looked down into the depths. There, lying on the bottom of the liner, and starting to be drowned in algae, was a circular gold band. It was a ring. He frowned. How the hell had a ring managed to get into his pond?

Nevertheless, he reached in, and he fished it out, plucking it from the depths of the increasingly murky water. Some of the braver fish swam up to his hand curiously, then darted away. He pulled his hand out of the water and opened his palm. He stared at the ring, and raised an eyebrow.

There was a clatter of feet in the house, and the clamour of Naruto's voice, then the squealing of the hinges opening. The door creaked, and smashed against the doorframe. Iruka winced. Naruto was so rough on things. "Oy!" the blond called to him, his feet pattering over the patio stones. "What've you got there, Iruka?"

Sasuke was right behind the blond, his feet slapping the stones as well. He stopped just slightly behind Naruto, his face set in a frown, and he held his arm against his face, trying to block the sunlight from his eyes.

Iruka offered the ring in Naruto's direction. "I found this in the pond," he said, and watched as the blond froze, and all the colour drained out of his face. He looked utterly horrified.

'Ah-ha,' Iruka thought, trying his very best to fight the triumphant smirk spreading across his face. 'Here's the culprit.'

"Do you know where this came from?" he asked, trying very valiantly to sound unsuspecting, but Naruto's face was a dead giveaway. Of course the blond knew where the ring had come from. He'd probably thrown it in the pond himself.

"N-no," Naruto spluttered, "I've never seen it before in my life."

He was lying, and it was painfully obvious. He looked like a trapped rabbit, who had run out of places to run. Sasuke was still standing right behind him, and he looked like the fox who had just caught the rabbit.

The brunet teen had been eyeing the ring up until this point, though he hadn't said anything. Now, he looked at it, and pointed. He said, in a low, calm tone, "Isn't that the ring you gave me, Naruto?"

The blond had run right into the fox and really was now stuck between the hunter and that other damned predator. He hissed a warning and smacked Sasuke, who turned his attention away from the ring to glare at him. "Why the hell did you throw it in the pond?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You're the one who gave it back to me!" Naruto yelled, his face turning red, with embarrassment and anger. He was frustrated now. The entire situation was too much for him to handle. He could only handle one predator at a time.

"You didn't have to throw it in the pond," Sasuke hissed, seemingly upset by Naruto's course of action. It didn't really make sense, considering he'd given it back to Naruto, but then again, Sasuke rarely made much sense.

"I was mad at you!"

"You could have returned it and got a refund," Sasuke retorted, looking decidedly cynical.

Naruto stuck his tongue out, unable to refute that logic. Sasuke smirked, and added a dig, saying, "Weren't you worried that Iruka would find out how you got the money to pay for that?"

The blond paled at least ten shades, until he was whiter than the sheets on Iruka's bed. The brunet man's eye twitched. He'd wondered why there was money missing, and now, he had solid evidence against the teenage boy.

"What are you talking about?" Naruto squeaked, trying to laugh and sounding terribly nervous and pitchy.

Sasuke seemed to realize then that Iruka was standing right there in front of them, holding the ring. He glanced at the teacher, and realized that he'd probably just cost Naruto his life. Iruka looked horrifically angry right then and there.

"Naruto," the brunet teacher said, his left eye twitching uncontrollably, "do tell me how you got the money to pay for this."

"Uh," Naruto said, tugging at the collar of his shirt. "Well, you see. . ."

"Would this have anything to do with my credit card and my missing money?" Iruka asked, his voice bordering on furious, but somehow not angry.

Naruto made a small noise of fear, then ducked behind Sasuke, and bolted into the house. The door slammed shut behind him with such force that it bounced open a couple times more, before finally staying shut.

Sasuke sighed, then turned to Iruka. "I'll pay you back, Iruka-sensei," he said, sounding exasperated.

Iruka shook his head. "Thank you for the offer, Sasuke, but Naruto needs to learn his lesson out of this."

He walked by the teenager, and was about to open the door when Sasuke said, sounding somewhat less cold than he normally did, "He did it because he felt bad about not being able to get me anything he thought was worthwhile."

Iruka paused, and glanced back over his shoulder. He had known perfectly well that was why Naruto did it; the blond had mentioned wanting to buy Sasuke the ring before he'd done it. Still, he tried to sound as if he hadn't known. "Oh?"

Sasuke had his back to him, so he couldn't see his expression. There was somehow a note of guilt in Sasuke's voice, something that was regretful. Iruka wondered why Sasuke, of all people, felt guilty.

"Just. . .let it go, Iruka-sensei," Sasuke said, and he sounded almost as if he were making a plea, "I'll pay for it. It's my fault anyway."

Iruka raised an eyebrow at that. To date, he hadn't thought that Sasuke was the type of person to accept blame for things that he knew were beyond his control. From hearing Naruto's rants about Sasuke, he had always assumed that Sasuke was someone who laid the blame on other people, even when it was his own fault.

"Please," Sasuke whispered, and Iruka had to strain to hear the breathless admission. Uchiha Sasuke never said please.

Slightly shocked, all the brunet teacher could say was, "All right."

"Don't tell Naruto," Sasuke said, and his voice was shaking somewhat. It unnerved the teacher.

"All right then," he replied slowly.

Sasuke held out his hand, expectantly. Iruka's face must have been a mask of confusion, and then, he understood that Sasuke wanted the ring. He let the door fall shut and went to deposit the little golden band in Sasuke's hand.

"Thank you," the teenager said softly, and Iruka wasn't quite sure just what to say.

- - - - - - - - -

The air in the gymnasium was heavy and humid. It settled on Naruto's shoulders, and weighed down. It was thick, and he almost couldn't filter it through his airways. His lungs felt as if they were on fire, and he wondered if this was what it felt like to be choked. His head was throbbing now, from the dizzying heat, and from the lack of heat in combination. He wanted to sit down and rest for a long, long time.

Sweat dripped down onto his nose, and he wrinkled his nose in distaste at the slimy feeling. His hair was starting to droop down into his eyes, and he kept trying to blow it out of his face, so that he could see across the court. He didn't want to get smashed in the face with the birdie.

He glanced over at Sasuke. The older boy was just as overheated as he was, obviously, but he didn't seem to mind the fact that his hair was sticking to the back of his neck. He was completely focussed on the other side of the net, locked in a glaring war with his brother. Naruto sighed, and shook his head.

This was most definitely the stupidest match that had ever been played in the history of history. Not only were the players from the same school, Naruto and Sasuke were in a separate division from Itachi and Orochimaru. Or were supposed to be, at least. Somehow, through some dumb stroke of bad luck, they'd ended up playing each other in the final match. Naruto knew now that they were going to be handed a very painful defeat.

Sasuke had been very pleased with Naruto's newfound ability throughout the matches they'd played so far. Of course, he hadn't come out and said anything, but if those sly glances and the occasional brush of his arm against the blond's when he'd played a particularly good set meant anything, than Sasuke was a very happy boy, and there would be lots of congratulatory sex later. Unless, of course, they lost this match.

This was the penultimate match, Sasuke's dream match. He was ready to show Itachi just what he was worth, and he was going to smash the birdie into Orochimaru's face if he could manage. Of course, if they lost, it would be blamed on Naruto, and not Sasuke. Naruto wondered how Sasuke was never at fault for anything. It annoyed him to no end.

The match started. Naruto could barely keep up with the level the other side was playing on. Orochimaru, that damned snake in the grass, obviously had left out a few key techniques when he'd helped Naruto bring up his game. The blond grit his teeth.

Itachi played with such ease it scared him just a bit. The elder Uchiha brother had a blank look on his face for the entirety of the match, and every one of his swings were precisely calculated before the birdie was even back on his side of the net. It seemed almost like Orochimaru was getting a free ride, until he got hold of the birdie and smashed it back across the net with stunning force.

Sasuke was trying desperately to keep up, but even he couldn't match the other side. He kept glaring at Naruto, trying to blame the blond for all his fumbles and all his clumsiness, and he wondered how he let Sasuke away with his selfish desire never to be wrong.

While he was thinking, Naruto managed to trip over an untied shoelace and did a very graceful face plant into the floor. The match was stopped, if only for a moment, and when Naruto glanced up from the floor, he knew that the game was over. If it hadn't been over before, it most definitely was now. There was no hope of congratulatory sex.

The match finished, and, almost needless to say, Orochimaru and Itachi walked away with the title. Sasuke looked mad enough to snap his racquet over his knee, but somehow managed to restrain himself. He stormed off the court, possibly to save face, but left Naruto in the dust.

"Told ya he was hard to please," Orochimaru said, somehow having appeared behind Naruto.

The blond jumped, then turned around, jabbing a finger in the elder teen's direction. "You!" he growled.

Orochimaru gave him a look that told him he was curious. "Me?" he asked, pointing to himself, and managing to look somehow smug, underneath the curiosity.

Naruto snarled. "Yes, you, you jerk. You didn't teach me half of what you know!"

Orochimaru wriggled his eyebrows. "I didn't teach you even one millionth of what I know, Naruto."

The blond's eye twitched. "Stop with the innuendo, you freakin' perv!"

Orochimaru gave him a wide grin. "Why should I? It's so much fun."

Naruto clenched his fists and ground his teeth some more. Then, he turned to stalk off the court. There was no use in trying to talk to Orochimaru. He was a pervert, and nothing but. Orochimaru followed him, though, persistent in talking.

"You know, Sasuke would be a very happy boy if you knew even ten things that I know."

Naruto glanced sideways at him, doing his very best not to look too curious. "Yeah? And what the hell would you teach me?"

"Lots of things," Orochimaru said, with a smirk. He didn't dare look at the blond. His tone was teasing.

Naruto hissed and made his strides longer, walking faster, and farther away from Orochimaru. "I don't have time for this," he growled.

Orochimaru kept pace beside him. He didn't say anything more, though. Once inside the change room, the blond spotted Sasuke, and scurried away from the older teen, to try and schmooze his way back into the Uchiha's good books.

They were just on their way out, with Sasuke storming ahead of him, when Orochimaru caught Naruto by the shoulder. The blond spun around and looked at him, clearly, confused. Orochimaru smiled, and pressed something into the blond's hand, then turned away. Naruto stared after him in confusion, then closed his fist tighter, and heard paper crinkle.

He grit his teeth, then turned about again and stalked out of the room, intent on catching up to Sasuke. He jammed his hands into his pockets angrily, along with the piece of paper. He knew what was on it, without even looking at it. He'd throw it out after play rehearsal.

Back in the locker room, Orochimaru just snickered to himself. Itachi gave him a funny look, but he just shook his head and made him shrug it off.

- - - - - - - -

Hinata was distracted. That much, anybody could see. The girl was naturally cursed to stutter, but she was strange today, as if she were walking about in a sort of daze. Her stuttering was increased tenfold, but only because she kept missing her lines. When she snapped out of her daze, momentarily, to realize that she had missed her line, she would blush, apologize, and stutter out the line, so shakily that Tsunade was worried. The performance night was looming in the not too distant future.

Hinata was deeply worried about her future with Kiba. He had seemed so afraid yesterday, when his sister had come to the door. He had looked as if he was going to die on the spot, and she wondered now, why that was. He didn't want her to meet his mother. Surely, she was going to have to meet his mother eventually, wasn't she?

He had said that his mother wasn't a pleasant person. She wondered what he had meant by that. Did he have something against his mother? Was there something she had done to him that he loathed her for? She couldn't help but wonder. She wanted to know the answers, but she knew better than to prod, especially with someone as explosive as Kiba. It would end with her in tears and him in a foul mood.

She wondered if his mother just wouldn't accept her, for some reason. She knew that lots of people disliked the Hyuugas for their position in the social system. Lots of people hated "old money", or money in general, when they themselves toiled in the dirt of the slimy underbelly of the city. She wondered if Kiba's mother was one of those people.

He certainly didn't live in a pleasant part of town, she knew. He lived in a townhouse, one of the old ones nearer to the downtown core. It hadn't been maintained very well, and even from the outside, looked as though it were falling to pieces. The entire neighbourhood looked as though it was crumbling, falling apart. There was graffiti on the old brick walls, and broken bottles, and other such things all about.

Some of the people, she had noticed, tried to make an effort. There were some nice gardens around, and some of the people tried to scrub the graffiti off the side of the walls, and tried to sweep the glass out of the street. But most of them just didn't care enough. The lawn in front of Kiba's house was choked with weeds, and the flowerbeds near the door had lain dormant for years.

The inside of the house hadn't been much better. It was crowded, and it smelled thickly of smoke, and dogs, and it was musty. It was dark, and almost dank, and an old air conditioner rattled away in the window. She didn't doubt that the upstairs would be boiling. The wallpaper in the kitchen had looked battered, and the floor she'd been standing on had been scratched and worn.

That wasn't to say that Kiba was a bad person. It wasn't to say that any of the Inuzukas were bad people, or that they didn't work for what they had. It just looked as if they didn't have much to show for what they worked for. She supposed it was better than nothing, but it was nothing compared to the Hyuuga manor. She wondered if that was why Kiba was so avidly against her meeting his mother. Was it the gap between their financial situations?

She was sure now that she genuinely cared about him. She hadn't been so sure before that she wasn't just substituting him for Naruto, or trying to use him to get to the blond. She hadn't been sure of her motives at the time. She had thought, for a while, that maybe she'd just been too stunned that he actually wanted her to refuse. Even if that had been the case in the beginning, she knew it wasn't the case now. She liked Kiba.

Still, she couldn't wonder at his reluctance to allow her into his life. Wasn't that what they were trying to do? Weren't they trying to share themselves with each other? She had never really understood relationships. The Hyuuga were not a very close-knit family. She was distant from her younger sister, and it wasn't just because of the age gap between them. It was the way they'd been raised.

Now, she wanted to know what a relationship really was supposed to be. Her parents were so stiff and formal toward each other. It was as if they were complete strangers, who merely shared house and home. She wondered if they'd ever been in love. She wondered more if they'd ever been in love with each other.

Kiba seemed to be a warm and open person, at first, but then again, even the most open of books contains secrets within its text. She would have to decipher him, she would have to read his words deeper, and look for his hidden meaning there. Eventually, when she pieced together enough to handle him gently, he would tell her the secrets. He would tell her the real reason he didn't want her to meet his mother. She just had to have faith that he would tell her, and the patience to wait for him to do so. It did no good to pry.

"Hinata!" Tsunade barked, and she jumped to life, startled, her eyes flying wide open.

"Y-yes, Tsunade-sensei?" she stuttered, trying hard to act as if she'd been paying attention, doing her very best not to stutter, even though that often made it worse.

The blonde woman frowned and tapped her foot against the polished floor of the stage. The sound echoed. She was mad. "You missed another line," she snarled.

Hinata bowed her head. "S-sorry, Tsunade-sensei," she whispered, and looked down at her script, her hands trembling. The words bolded in pink hi-lighter wobbled.

Tsunade turned around, her shoes clicking irately. "Take it from the top!" she barked.

- - - - - - - - -

Naruto glanced away from Hinata, turning his attention back to fiddling with the pins in the hem of Sasuke's dress. The dark-haired boy was having some issues breathing, but the only thing really wrong with his costume was the fact that it was too long. He'd been tripping all over it in the previous scene.

"Hinata sure is acting weird today," he commented around the pins in his mouth.

Sasuke made a funny noise, that probably meant he agreed. Naruto couldn't really tell. Sasuke was probably just overreacting again. He could be such a drama queen sometimes. He was complaining that Tsunade had laced the corset too tight. Naruto couldn't see the problem: the garment had achieved the effect they wanted, and also forced Sasuke's voice up a notch or two, because he couldn't breathe properly. Then again, Naruto had never worn a corset in his life. He was quite proud of that fact.

"Going to faint?" he asked dryly, looking up at Sasuke with a cheeky grin.

Sasuke stopped huffing momentarily to glare at him, and tried to kick him in the face. The blond jerked back, forgetting that he was holding two handfuls of Sasuke's hemline in his hands. He nearly pulled Sasuke down. That earned him another glare. Sasuke was now officially pissed at him. He had been before as well, about the badminton match, but now he was extra pissed off. That meant that Naruto had absolutely no chance of getting anything out of him tonight.

Sasuke moved his hand and the light caught something, making in flash, and Naruto was temporarily blinded. Then, he grabbed Sasuke's hand and glared at it. Then, he glared up at Sasuke. "I thought you were going to return it," he hissed, "and get a refund."

Sasuke looked startled for a moment or two, and then, a pinkish tinge crept into his cheeks. "Well, erm. . .It's none of your business." And he pulled his hand out of Naruto's grip viciously.

The blond wasn't sure whether to smile and be smug, or to be angry with Sasuke. After all, Iruka had grounded him for buying the ring and taking the money without permission. But why had Sasuke been allowed to keep the ring? Iruka hadn't mentioned anything about being paid back, so he'd assumed that the teacher was going to return the item. Obviously, that was not the case. "It is so my business," he grumbled, frowning.

Sasuke was back to panting now. Apparently, arguing just took too much breath. Naruto glowered at him for a moment or two, before deciding that with all said and done, he was glad that Sasuke was wearing the ring at least. It didn't make him as elated as he'd thought he'd be, however. Maybe it was because the damned ring had now caused him a huge headache.

Sasuke made a noise, and he glanced to his right, and saw Gaara standing there, eyeing them. It was unnerving, because Naruto had no idea how long the red-head had been watching them. He smiled anyway. It was better to be nice to Gaara than to piss him off and suffer the consequences. Sasuke shuffled a bit closer to him, his leg pressing into Naruto's knee, as if he was searching for security. The blond felt the smile he'd plastered on his lips become a little more genuine.

Gaara turned away, and said nothing. He looked at the stage, and noticed that the scene that was being rehearsed had nearly wrapped up. "We're on next," he said bluntly, and indicated to his fellow actors.

Naruto rose to his feet and turned to follow him. The actors currently on stage were just moving off and now, it really was their turn to rehearse in front of the director. Naruto felt a little bit nervous.

Sasuke stumbled into him, swearing, and still huffing, pulling the skirt of the dress up off the floor so he didn't trip on it any more. "Need a hand?" Naruto asked, almost snidely, earning another glare from Sasuke.

Nevertheless, he felt Sasuke fumble for his hand, and he let the dark-haired teen catch it and smiled lightly when he felt him latch on. Sasuke tried so hard to be independent, but he could be so clingy at times, it was cute.

It was then that he made up his mind what to do about the piece of paper that was hidden in his pocket, burning into his memory. He knew exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted to make sure Sasuke was happy.

- - - - - - - -

TenTen had spent all day in the hospital bed, lying there, watching the routine coming and going of nurses. She had yet to see a doctor, but she supposed that meant she was really all right. She supposed that meant that there wasn't any bad news yet.

The nurses all asked her the same silly questions, and they all seemed quite the same. She didn't wonder if they weren't all clones of the same person, and their hair had simply been dyed - a brunette, a blonde, a red-head, a woman with jet black hair.

Maybe it was the painkillers. One, two, three times, maybe four, they changed the drip, and she watched it with dull eyes, as one empty packet went away, and another one was speared onto the hook. She watched, bored, as the liquid started to seep down the IV tube that crept down into her arm. Then, she would slip into a dreamless sleep, and she wondered when the world had become quite so dark.

It was okay, they told her, to have the painkillers in her blood. They told her it was all right, because she wasn't going to be breastfeeding, and they left the threat of the baby's death in the air. They did not speak of it. They didn't even mention the baby. It was okay, because even if the baby lived, she wouldn't be breastfeeding. She wondered how they knew that. She really wondered how they could make her decisions for her.

The day passed, and now, the afternoon light filtered into the room, dull and humid, like the day outside had probably been. She was itchy and she was hot, but she didn't dare move, in case the screaming pain burned up her middle again. She went back to sleep. The afternoon sunlight continued to filter in, sticky, dull and dying.

It was cooler when she woke, though she knew it was just as humid as before. There was the still the buzz of the ancient fan, one that had been on all afternoon, but she had failed to notice it then. Now, she was really awake. Now, she was no longer caught between consciousness and the world of dreams. Now, it was night outside, and she was an owl, truly awake.

Neji wasn't there. He had been there in her dream, moving, wavering, like some sort of mirage in the late afternoon heat, just before sundown. Maybe he had been there, and she'd thought she'd dreamed it. Maybe he hadn't been there at all. Maybe she really had dreamed it.

Presently, there was the click of shoes on the tiled floor, and she could almost feel, could almost reach out and touch the hurry that drove those flurried footsteps. They hurried right on by, and faded into the night. She felt silly. She had been waiting for those footsteps to hurry to her and bring bad news.

She lay there, wide awake now, and feeling a slow stinging starting in the middle of her again, and slowly, starting to spread outward as all of their painkillers came undone, and evaporated from her blood, leaving her hurt again. She lay there, and she waited for the nurses to come back and change her drip again. She lay there and she waited for Neji to come back, bringing with him comfort and security. She lay there and she waited for someone to come and tell her something, anything.

And presently, someone did come, with slow, unhurried footsteps. The footsteps were heavy, like a man's, and she wondered if this was a doctor coming to see her now. The footsteps were sombre and slow, like a funeral march, and dread twisted inside her stomach. Pain reared up again, and its heat drove the painkillers a little further away, evaporated them a little faster.

There was a doctor, with his slow, slow footsteps, and right behind him, there was a nurse, with quick light footsteps, and she seemed like she was tailgating him, and she was peering over his shoulder, as if she were trying to check to see if it was okay to pass him.

Then, they were standing there, right beside her, and the nurse was holding something that was all wrapped up in blue blankets, wriggling and squirming. She didn't even want to think about it. The nurse smiled at her and she leaned down and passed the blanketed mass to her, and she tried to sit up, only to realize that she couldn't.

And then, everything was real. There was her child, in her arms, screaming and kicking at her and utterly alive. She didn't think she'd ever been more enthralled, more amazed at anything in her life.

- - - - - -

Sakura and Ino walked home from rehearsal, silent, but not angry, for once in what seemed like forever. They were going to drop by the ice cream parlour again, and pester Shikamaru. That was one of Ino's favourite pastimes, and she hadn't done it in weeks. Shikamaru had thought she'd given up.

Somehow, someway, life seemed to be back to normal, back in order. Ino had given up all her normal activities, all her normal day-to-day habits in favour of an obsession, and now, she realized that this wasn't healthy at all. She had dropped all normalcy in her life. She had become strange.

Now, everything was back in order, in the usual disarray. She and Sakura were friends again, and they were going to bother Shikamaru. It was Sakura's turn to buy the ice cream. Ino had treated last time.

The day had been bright, hot and humid, almost scorching, and now, the sun was ducking behind clouds that looked as if they might decide to rain at any given moment. Maybe there would be a thunderstorm. It wasn't that strange of a thing in Konoha on a summer's afternoon. More often than not, there would been a downpour in the evening, after the heat of the day passed, and the sun went down.

The bell dinged as they walked inside the parlour, and Shikamaru sighed when he saw them. He rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath that could have been, "Troublesome."

Choji was there, sitting at one of the tables, the one closest to the counter, and he had a half-finished sundae sitting on the counter. He'd been talking to Shikamaru before they'd walked in, and now, he gave them a bit of a wave. Shikamaru just leaned on the counter and sighed again.

Ino gave Choji a nod. She wasn't all that fond of the boy. She wasn't exactly sure how Shikamaru could stand to be friends with him, sometimes. All he ever seemed to think about was food. She had asked Shikamaru about it once, and he had shrugged, mentioning something about it being terribly tedious to explain just why Choji was a good friend. She had persisted, however, and Shikamaru had eventually said, though she was pretty sure he was joking, "He's easy to please. You give him some chips, and all is well."

She hadn't asked after that. Sakura trailed after her into the store, and they walked to the counter. It had just began to rain outside. Thunder clapped in the distance. They all glanced to the window. "Darn," Sakura said, "I hope it stops before we leave."

Ino nodded and Shikamaru sighed again. "You're lucky. You just made it inside."

Ino waved her hand. "It's just a little bit of rain, Shikamaru. It's not that big of a deal."

Thunder rolled nearer to them, and then, it started to rain harder. Ino blinked, and Shikamaru shook his head. "Are you two going to order something?" he asked, curtly, though his tone held no anger or malice.

Ino smirked devilishly, and looked at the menu. "Well, Shikamaru. . ."

The dark-haired boy groaned inwardly. He should have known better than to ask if Ino was going to order anything. She always took so long to decide, and then, when she did, she changed her mind several times before she finally settled on something. He hated it. He knew she did it just to bug him.

"I shouldn't have asked," he grumbled, and glanced at Choji, who was laughing silently at him.

- - - - - - - - -

Naruto ran from the bus stop, holding his hands over his head, as if they might prevent him from getting wet. The rapidly forming puddles nearly swallowed his feet, and water splashed all the way up his legs, all over him. He did his best to ignore it. He tried to ignore the threatening sound of the thunder in the background. He tried to pretend that this wasn't symbolic, because it most likely wasn't.

He was glad to get out of the rain. His clothes were sticking to him, and now, the humidity of the building made him itchy and uncomfortable, but he was glad to be out of the rain. He started jogging up the stairs, ignoring the wet squishing sound his shoes made as he went, trying to keep moving so that he couldn't dwell on his discomfort.

He knocked on the apartment door when he reached the specified number. Then, he waited. The door was worn, and old, and it matched the rest of the building's interior. He fiddled with the sleeves of his t-shirt, trying to stop them from sticking to his skin.

The door creaked open, and Orochimaru stuck his head out into the hallway. He gave Naruto a strange look, then smiled a smirk that made the blond feel a little bit queasy. Was he doing the right thing? He hoped he was.

He went silently into the snake's lair, hoping to learn a thing or two, and he didn't know why, but he wanted to get out of there quickly. He heard the door shut and lock behind him. Was this the way the snake snared all of his victims? He wondered how many victims there had been, how many other people had been in this room, in this same situation. But now, he was here for Sasuke's sake, and somehow, that was supposed to redeem him.

He turned about to face the elder teen. "Okay," he said, sounding almost surly. "Here I am. Teach me."

Orochimaru ignored him though, moving about him, and said something in passing about dinner. Naruto frowned. He didn't like this. He wasn't here for entertainment value. He was here to learn something, quick as he could, and be on his way. He didn't want to stay for dinner and he didn't want to stay in Orochimaru's presence any longer than he had to. There was something slimy about him.

He realized he must have been scowling, because the older teen laughed. "Really, Naruto," he said, with a reproving look. "Don't look so sulky. You want to impress Sasuke, right?"

Naruto wondered just how the bastard knew exactly how to manipulate him. "Yes," he replied, almost reluctantly.

"Do you know how to cook anything beyond instant ramen?"

Naruto shook his head, a little bit embarrassed. The elder teen rolled his eyes. "Really," he commented dryly. "Sasuke's an Uchiha, for crying out loud, Naruto. If you want to impress him, you make fancy cuisine."

Naruto blinked in surprise. "You mean. . .you're teaching me to cook?" he asked, sounding almost incredulous. He could have laughed. Really, he could have laughed hysterically.

Orochimaru raised an eyebrow. "Yes. What did you think I was going to teach you?"

Naruto shook his head and bit his lip. He looked at the floor, plastered on a smile, then looked back up again. "Nothing. I really had no idea what to expect."

"Well then," Orochimaru said, meandering into the kitchenette, with Naruto trailing behind him. "Shall we get started?"

- - - - - - -

(A/N: R&R?)


	42. I Have the Touch

(A/N: Terribly sorry about the long wait. Communications between myself and my beta apparently broke down, and university has kept me so busy up until now, I haven't had time to even glance this over.

I must say I'm not sure these chapters have any semblance of plot. Basically, they're an exercise in writing. Think of them as me trying to wrap up everything, just for the sake of ending the story. Hopefully, they'll make you at least chuckle with their idiocy, or go "WTF?" with their strangeness.

Thanks to everybody who reviewed Chapter 41, and who reviewed the story in general. Chapter 43 should be out by the start of November.)

And the Beat Goes On

Chapter 42: I Have the Touch

"Uwah!" Naruto cried. "This is fun!"

Orochimaru stared at the disgusting state of his counter. If there was one thing Naruto liked, it was making a mess. The blond certainly had that down to an art. Now, if only he could actually get a grasp on the art of cooking, they'd be all set.

Maybe he should get Naruto to start with the clean-up before he started trying to teach him to make anything. After all, how could anyone work in this mess? He knew he certainly couldn't, and he didn't make any claims to be a person who sought order in everything he did.

"Naruto," he said, exasperated. "Will you stop wasting my flour?"

"Why?" the blond asked, turning around to face him. He kept pouring flour, and consequently made the measuring cup overflow.

"Aw, crap!" the blond cried, turning back around. "That's way too much!"

He tried to sweep some of the flour off the top of the cup, back into the bag, but only succeeded in sending it high up into the air and making himself sneeze. Orochimaru was about ready to dash his head against the wall. "Naruto," he growled.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" the blond cried, trying desperately to hide the mess he'd made.

Orochimaru sighed and sat down. He knew now why Iruka didn't let Naruto cook anything. At this rate, the blond was probably going to destroy the kitchen in a fire.

Naruto was dusted from head to toe in flour and baking soda, salt and sugar, and anything else of the fine, powdery variety. He'd spilled the vanilla all over the counter, and there was molasses being baked onto the top of the oven. There were a couple of broken eggs hiding on the floor, and the flour had dusted the linoleum, making it slippery and treacherous to walk across.

Orochimaru had decided to start with the desserts, because those were easy. He also knew how to make quite a few of them, because, as he'd found out, Itachi had quite the sweet tooth. Not that the stubborn Uchiha would ever admit that. . .

Naruto had grumbled about Sasuke being sour inside and out and liking his food that way, but Orochimaru insisted that desserts were easiest. Right now, Naruto had moved from burning muffins to mangling meringues to crushing cookies. Orochimaru didn't want to move any further ahead, though Naruto seemed to think they should.

"Maybe we should start with something simpler," he said with a sigh, getting up and moving to the cupboards.

He pulled out a box of instant cake mix. "Here," he said, handing it to Naruto, who looked at it in confusion.

"All you have to do is add water, oil and an egg," Orochimaru said, trying to run a hand through his hair and finding that it was all stuck together with something sticky. He made a face.

"Right," Naruto said. "Oil, egg, water. Mix, and bake for. . .however long."

"You got molasses in my hair! How the hell did you manage that, you little punk!" the older teen barked, glaring at the blond.

"Eh heh," Naruto said, sticking a hand behind his head and looking away. He wasn't about to tell Orochimaru that he'd done that on purpose.

"Bah!" Orochimaru said, tossing his hands up in the air. "You make that cake. I'll be back."

"Right-o," Naruto said, giving him a sloppy salute.

The older teen rolled his eyes and stalked out of the kitchen. Then, he turned around and stuck his head back into the room. "Don't jump," he said.

"Why?" Naruto asked, as clueless as ever.

"Because," Orochimaru snarled, "you'll make the cake fall. And don't blow up my kitchen either."

"Right, right," the younger teen muttered, turning around and starting to measure out the oil. Orochimaru winced, and retreated, unable to watch Naruto screw up any more.

"Stupid brat," he muttered, pulling at the molasses-induced knots in his hair. "I'm probably going to have to cut this out. . ."

Sighing, he tugged his shirt over his head and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. "I bet that little snot did that on purpose," he snarled.

Ten minutes later, he was out of the shower and in the bedroom, getting dressed and drying off. His hair was still a little stuck together in places, and he was annoyed with that. He trotted back to the bathroom to hack out the sticky parts.

He walked out into the kitchen, only to find it more of a mess than it was when he'd left it. "Gah!" he cried. "What did you do?"

"Made a cake?" Naruto asked, cocking his head to the side. "It's still in the oven."

"I meant the kitchen!" Orochimaru cried. "It's a mess!"

"Uh, yeah, it is," Naruto confirmed, looking around. "You might want to clean that up."

"I don't think so," Orochimaru said, "I think you might want to clean it up."

"Why would I do that?" Naruto asked. "It's your kitchen."

"And it's your mess," the older teen retorted. "Now, get cleaning, before I kick your sorry ass down the street and back!"

"I'd like to see you try!" Naruto exclaimed.

"Clean!" Orochimaru barked. "Now!"

"Yessir!" Naruto cried, grabbing the cloth from the sink and wiping down the counter in record time.

Orochimaru sighed and closed his eyes. This was a big mistake. . .

- - - - - - - -

Naruto walked in the door at ten to ten that evening. It was still raining outside, and he was soaked now. At least he wasn't covered in flour anymore. He sighed and tugged off his shoes. Then, he walked into the kitchen.

Iruka was sitting there, glowering at him.

"Crap," he said, feeling his heart sink into the bottom of his stomach. There was something he knew he'd forgotten. He just knew he'd forgotten. . .

"Where have you been?" Iruka asked, clearly annoyed.

"Um, at a friend's," he replied, then winced. That was a bad answer. He was grounded!

"At a friend's," Iruka said, sounding like. . . .well, Iruka when he's very pissed off. There's nothing that quite compares to Iruka's ire.

"Uh, yes," Naruto said, well aware that he sucked at lying.

"And aren't you supposed to come directly home after rehearsal?" Iruka asked, standing up and crossing his arms.

"Yes. . ," Naruto agreed slowly.

"What time is it now?" Iruka asked, pointing at the clock.

"Ten to ten," Naruto replied dutifully.

"And what time does rehearsal end?"

"Ten to five," Naruto responded.

"That means you're five hours late!" the brunet teacher snapped.

"I know, I know!" Naruto cried, turning away, as if trying to shield himself from his guardian's wrath.

"What the hell have you been doing for five hours!"

Naruto went red and looked down at his feet. "I was. . .um, uh,. . ."

Iruka rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. "Don't tell me you were with Sasuke," he said, sounding pained.

"No!" Naruto barked. "I was. . .um, learning how to cook stuff. 'Cause you know, I suck at it and all. . ."

Iruka sighed heavily. "Naruto, you and I both know that's not a good excuse. You could learn to cook here, just as well as anywhere else. And what on earth possessed you to learn to cook?"

"Ah," Naruto said, looking about a little nervously. "Ever hear the saying, 'The way to a man's heart is through his stomach'?"

Iruka frowned. "I should have known," he muttered, turning away.

"Look," he said, "I think it's great you want to impress Sasuke, and it's even better that you're learning to cook, but how the hell am I supposed to discipline you if you can't even remember that you're in trouble!"

Naruto tried to look innocent. "You're not?" he asked.

Iruka shook his head in dismay. "I'm not supposed to punish you for stealing money from me. Right. Keep dreaming, Naruto."

The blond teen perked up. "Oh, yeah! How come Sasuke still has the ring?" he asked.

Iruka gave him a startled look. "He still has the ring?" he asked. "How do you know?"

"He was wearing it today," Naruto explained, sitting down at the table. "Did he pay you or something, 'cause you haven't asked me for the money. . ."

He glowered a little bit at the teacher. Iruka turned away. "Well," he said, "he asked me not to tell you. . .but, yeah. He said he'd pay for it."

"That bastard!" Naruto growled, hopping off his chair and heading toward the telephone. "I'm gonna give him a piece of my mind!"

"No telephone calls, Naruto," Iruka said, waggling a finger in warning. "You've already overstepped one limitation of your grounding tonight. Don't you think that's enough?"

"No," Naruto retorted, sticking out his tongue. He dialled Sasuke's number.

Iruka grabbed the phone from him. "Bed!" he yelled at the blond. "Now!"

He slammed the phone down on the receiver as the blond scuttled away, eyes wide and round. Iruka sighed and shook his head. He flopped down in one of the kitchen chairs. "What a little brat," he muttered.

- - - - - - - - -

Itachi had been called out to the funeral of their great-grandmother that night. He'd opted to leave Sasuke at home, because sending one person was cheaper than sending two, and Itachi had to go, because he was clan head now.

Sasuke was home alone. The lights were off everywhere, and the curtains were drawn in every room. The house was silent, and dark. The youngest Uchiha brother was in his element.

He prowled around the house, like a cat in the dark, on all fours, occasionally hitting his head against some piece of furniture or another. He didn't know why, but he felt like he had to sneak around.

It was well after midnight, and he knew it was a school night. He didn't really care though. His mind was running away on him, and he wasn't going to be able to sleep just yet. There had been a late-night horror movie marathon, and while he normally didn't like those sorts of things, he had watched all of the movies, and now, was wide awake.

That was why all the lights in the house were off. It just didn't do to watch horror films by yourself with the lights on. It was a stupid thing to do. They weren't half as scary with the lights on. In fact, they seemed kind of stupid like that.

He'd done his homework, like a good little boy, and he'd made himself dinner. He was surprised he hadn't heard from Orochimaru. He wasn't surprised he hadn't heard from Naruto. The blond was grounded, after all.

He flipped on the lights in the kitchen and winced as they came on. They were so very bright, but he wasn't about to risk reaching into the knife drawer in the dark or something and cutting himself to pieces.

He was on the prowl for his brother's alcohol stash. He knew it was there, and he was going to find it. He was also on the lookout for the little brown paper bag his brother had brought home one night last week. Something had been going on between Itachi and Orochimaru, and they were keeping it hush-hush from him.

He got to his feet and walked across the kitchen, checking each cupboard individually. He normally didn't do things like this, because he was the 'good' child, but he didn't care tonight. Itachi wouldn't catch him, Orochimaru wouldn't know and nobody could say anything. He'd still have his reputation.

He found some unopened bottles in the back of one of the cupboards. He dragged it out to the light, checked for a date on the stuff, and opened it up. It was vodka, or so he thought, so he set about making himself some screwdrivers.

He set out the bottles, and got out a glass. He poured some of the clear, alcoholic liquid into the glass, and then, moved to the refrigerator. He dragged out the orange juice and mixed it. He left the two liquids out on the table and moved off.

He went into the den, where they kept their computer. It wasn't a room they used a lot. It was tucked underneath the stairs, and fairly spacious. They kept a sofa in there, and a couple of chairs, along with the computer. The window looked out at the front lawn. It had a very old feel to it, and Sasuke drew the drapes. It probably hadn't been redecorated since their parents moved into the house.

The room was cut off and quiet and secluded, which was just how he liked it. They didn't use it, or the computer a lot. The computer was mostly for school projects, and the occasional business e-mail from someone or other, which he didn't have to worry about. Itachi looked after those.

He wasn't trying to be nosy or anything. He just wanted to see what his brother did online. He had a funny feeling that after he went to bed, Itachi logged some hours on the machine and the web.

He didn't need to guess what the first thing his brother did was. All of the bookmarks under his user name were porno sites. He didn't bother with them. He had his stash upstairs in hard copy (hah, hard.), and he could do what he liked in the comfort of his bed.

"Ew," he said, glancing down, and wincing. No wonder Itachi didn't endorse the use of the den. He didn't even want to think about how many times his brother had probably sat in the chair and. . .

"Not going there," he muttered, launching the web browser and looking at the homepage. It was a boring school web page.

He sighed, and went to Itachi's e-mail, hacking into it. It wasn't very hard to guess the password. There was a lot of things he would have dubbed spam, but to Itachi, he supposed they were business transactions. "Renew your subscription now!" they exclaimed at him. He rolled his eyes.

He read a few of them, and frowned. Maybe his brother wasn't as completely. . .gay as he'd thought he was. There was a lot of subscriptions to things that were completely heterosexual. "He's bi?" Sasuke asked of no one in particular, then closed the browser. "Yuck."

He tossed back the rest of his drink, then got up to get another one. He went back to the den, despising the walk from the kitchen back to the computer. He was going to have to fix that. He felt like getting absolutely smashed.

He got bored with the computer and went upstairs instead. He went into his brother's room, a place he would normally never invade. He didn't even want to think about what went on in there. It made him a little queasy, and he wanted to hang onto his alcohol a little longer.

He found the little brown bag and looked inside it. There was nothing left in it. He shrugged and tossed it away. He rooted through Itachi's room for a little while, but found nothing that was of interest, except maybe the flavoured condoms on the floor. He shuddered and left the room as quick as he could. He didn't need to know about his brother's quirky sex life.

He went into their parents room. He hated going in there, and hadn't been in there in quite a while, but he just felt like he should. There were a few things in disarray, indicating that someone else had been in the room, most likely Itachi, but it didn't matter.

He knew that his parents had kept the photo albums in their closet, so he opened it up and went digging through the old, unworn and out-of-fashion clothes. He pulled out the albums and went digging through them.

Every so often, he'd go downstairs and get another drink. Eventually, he brought the vodka upstairs, and drank it straight. It burned on the way down, but it was making him feel better than those pictures were. He laughed at a few of them, and cried at a few more.

He put those away, and dug out a couple more, some that were even older than the ones he'd just had out. The pictures were foggier, and sometimes in black and white. There was pictures of his parents as children, with their families. There was pictures of them as teenagers, and at special events in their teenage lives.

He stared at a picture of their mother, in which she was wearing the shortest black dress ever known to man. He guessed that these pictures had been taken either just before or just after his parents had been married.

He flipped over the page and stared. She wasn't wearing just a bloody dress! It was a little French maid's outfit. He started to gag. "Ew," he whimpered. "Disgusting."

Apparently his entire family was kinky. He shuddered and closed the book, putting it back in the closet. He got to his feet and wobbled a bit. That didn't stop him from taking another shot of vodka. He started to rummage through the closet.

He found a big bag, and he dragged it out of the closet with some difficulty. "Wonder what this is," he muttered, unaware that he was slurring.

He fumbled with the zipper and opened it up. It was his mother's wedding dress. It was starting to go a little yellow around the edges with age, but he didn't care. It was a Western sort of confection, big and lacy and not at all like the traditional robes they'd worn for weddings in the past.

He took it out of the bag. It tumbled off the hanger. "Crap," he muttered, tugging at it, pulling it up off the floor. "Gods, how did she wear this? It's heavy."

He set his drink down on the bedside table and unzipped the back of the dress. "Looks like it'd be hot too," he muttered.

He took off his shirt and clambered into the white, lacy dress. He had some trouble zipping it up again, seeing as how the zipper was on the back of the dress. He didn't even realize how smashed he'd have to be to willingly get in a dress.

"Stupid thing," he muttered, growling and tugging it up. It cinched at the waist, and he suddenly couldn't breathe.

"Stupid women," he said, "how do they put up with this?"

He moved forward and nearly tripped over the trailing gown. "Goddamn!" he growled, hiking the skirt up. The back end was still dragging on the floor. He snorted. "Who designed this thing?"

He found her shoes in the closet and pulled them out, sticking his feet into them. He wobbled a bit, and held his hands out to the side, in order to stabilize himself. He giggled a bit, drunken beyond belief.

He looked at himself in the mirror. "Make-up," he muttered, moving over to the vanity and sitting down.

He looked at the decaying make-up and wondered what to do with it. He remembered, vaguely, watching his mother put on her make-up, but that was a long time ago when he'd be sober. This was now and he was drunk.

"This goes. . ," he murmured, creasing his brow. He grabbed his drink and shot it back. "Here."

He rubbed the red stuff all over his lips, wincing at the disgusting feel of it. It was waxy and his lips clung together. "And this. . .goes here," he said, picking up the blush and dusting it, rather heavily all over his cheeks.

He put on the eyeshadow next, unaware of how lopsided he looked with it on. He looked a little too made up. The make-up was too heavy. He didn't care though. He laughed at his reflection. "Oooh, I'm so pretty," he cooed at himself, batting his eyelashes.

He fell backwards off the stool, laughing hysterically. He wasn't sure he could get up. Eventually, he managed to get up, shaking and stumbling. He laughed some more, then grabbed two fistfuls of his hair and pulled them back, sloppily, messily. He grabbed some jewelled pins out of his mother's jewellery box and pushed them roughly into his hair.

"I look ridiculous," he told his reflection, then started laughing. He laughed so hard he cried, and his stomach hurt from the cinched waist of the dress biting into his flesh.

"Oh, oh, it hurts," he gasped, getting to his feet again and looking at his empty glass.

He tugged on the white gloves he'd found in the bag and pulled them on. He found the veil there as well and pulled it over his head. He looked at his reflection. "Here comes the bride," he crowed, off-key and out of tune.

He swept out of the room, carrying his glass. He had no idea how to walk in high heels when he was sober, let alone when he was drunk. He stumbled and tripped here and there. He barely managed to make it out into the hall.

That didn't deter him from going downstairs, however. He marched down the stairs, giggling and shuddering at the strange feeling of lacy scratching at his bare skin. It tickled, and hurt all at once. He tripped over the dress' train and tumbled down the stairs, landing on the floor of the living room, laughing breathlessly. He hadn't broken the glass.

He clambered to his feet, and stumbled into the kitchen, nearly falling to the left, then to the right. He made it back to the kitchen table, unaware that he'd left a half-empty bottle of vodka in his parents' room, and he'd left the door to that room open.

He poured himself some more alcohol and drank it in one go. He poured himself more, not even noticing that he missed the glass almost entirely. "Congrats to the newlyweds!" he slurred, loudly.

He tipped back yet another glass full of vodka, and hiccuped. He left his glass on the table and took the bottle with him instead, tottering upstairs unsteadily. He flopped onto his bed, the shoes making his feet hurt, his lungs aching from being unable to take a proper breath, and his head splitting in two suddenly from having too much to drink. He felt sick.

He was alone, and he was drunk, and he was in his mother's wedding dress, with her shoes on his feet and her make-up smeared across his face and her hairpins buried deep in his hair. His vision was a bit blurry around the edges, not just from the alcohol as he looked across his room. Sitting at the corner of his desk was a picture of them, when they were still a family.

He normally turned it over whenever he felt particularly melancholy. But tonight, he couldn't be bothered to drag himself from his bed to turn it over and hide the faces he'd forgotten. He sat up on the bed, and took another drink from the bottle, trying to stay the quivering of his bottom lip. He hugged his knees to his chest and started to sob.

"Mommy," he said to his knees, choking on his sobs. "Please come back, please, please, please. . .just come back. . ."

He was all alone.

- - - - - - - - -

Itachi arrived home in the first early light of the morning. Actually, it was still very dark outside when he walked up the driveway, but the light was coming.

He'd left directly after school that day, heading out to the funeral home. There had been no visitations, and now, there was only the funeral. Great-grandmother Uchiha was nothing but ashes now, in an ornate jar, buried under the earth in the Uchiha family tomb.

They'd wanted a speech from him, and that was it. He wasn't really a man of words, so what he'd told them had been fairly short and uninspiring. He was quite sure they'd all left wondering if he really was fit to be the next Uchiha clan head.

He didn't care. He hadn't been to a funeral in years, and years, not since his parents died. He had wondered what they would want him to do. He'd been half expecting them to ask him to eat her bones. He shuddered.

He couldn't really remember what had happened at his parents funeral. He'd been in such a daze. He remembered Sasuke was sick, and crying, because he was a crybaby. He remembered standing there, solemn and quiet, but that was all he really remembered. He couldn't remember if his parents had been cremated. He supposed it didn't really matter. They were dead, all the same.

He had expected to find Sasuke asleep in his room, or at least, the door to the boy's bedroom locked. It was open, and he had found Sasuke asleep, but not how he'd expected to find him.

His eye twitched. "Sasuke," he growled, but his brother didn't stir. "What the hell are you doing?"

He moved across the floor, shutting the door behind him with a frown. He sat down on the bed, and shook his brother by the shoulders. Sasuke groaned and winced, as if opening his eyes was painful. He looked at his brother.

"'tachi?" he asked, looking a little sick.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Itachi asked, his voice calm and monotone, as if he was asking Sasuke the most mundane question to have ever existed.

"Huh?" Sasuke asked, and made a move to sit up. The rustling of cloth and the scratching of lace alerted him to the fact he was wearing something he shouldn't have been. "Oh. Uhm. . ."

He tried to remember what on earth had possessed him to wear their mother's wedding dress, but thinking hurt his head and made him feel sick. "I. . .uh. . ."

"You were drunk," Itachi said with a sigh, looking at the bottle spilled all across the floor.

Sasuke looked away. He might have been blushing in shame, but Itachi couldn't really tell under all the make-up the boy had smeared across his face.

"You're a mess," Itachi said with a sigh.

"My head hurts," Sasuke whined, closing his eyes and trying to lie back.

"Get out of this thing before you go to bed," Itachi growled, tugging on the material. It was stained with make-up smears and alcohol now. He winced.

"I. . .uhm. How?" the younger Uchiha asked.

"Up," Itachi commanded, frowning.

Sasuke got up, slowly, looking sicker every second. He wobbled when he got to his feet, unused to the high heels. "Her shoes too?" Itachi asked, with a sigh. "Sasuke. . ."

"Just get me out of it," the younger brother whined. "I want to go to sleep."

Itachi yanked on the zipper, and the dress practically slid off Sasuke, as if cheering its freedom from its abuse. Sasuke kicked off the shoes, his aching feet thanking him for taking them off. He grabbed onto his brother's forearms and carefully climbed out of the pooling fabric at his feet. Itachi yanked the gloves from his forearms and pulled the veil and the hairpins from his head. "Go to the bathroom and wash the make-up off your face," he growled.

Sasuke swayed and walked to the bathroom, looking as if he might fall over at any second. Itachi sighed and looked at the damage done to the dress. He decided he'd better find out what else his brother had done to mangle the house while he'd been gone.

- - - - - - - - -

"Sasuke!"

He turned toward the pink-haired girl calling his name. He clearly wasn't in the mood to be dealing with her. "You've got a little something here," she said, pointing to the corner of her lips, indicating where he should be trying to rub to remove said something.

Ino frowned, having just walked up behind Sakura. "Are you wearing make-up?" she asked of the boy, pushing past Sakura, and moving up closer to him, as if to study him. She leaned up on her tip-toes, and scrutinized him.

"No," he said, turning his face away and rubbing at it. The make-up he'd put on his face last night had been so old it didn't want to come off. He'd scrubbed for the better part of an hour last night before going back to bed, and then for at least twenty minutes again before he left for school. He didn't think it helped that he was hung-over, but. . .

"Yes you are," Ino said, frowning, and chasing him, her hand on his shoulder for balance.

"Don't touch me," he growled, jerking away from her, causing her to lose her balance.

She caught it, and he cursed at her inside his head. He'd wanted her to fall flat on her face. "Why on earth are you wearing make-up?" she asked, hands on hips.

"I'm not!" he cried.

"I know you're naturally pretty," Sakura jibed, "but you aren't that pretty."

He raised an eyebrow. Ino shook her head. "Sakura -"

"Good morning!" Naruto cried, running into the music room. "I hope I'm not late -"

He paused and looked at the clock. "Bah! Iruka told me I was going to be late! I'm early!"

He whipped around and looked at Sasuke, then frowned. "What's wrong with your face, bastard?"

"There's nothing wrong with my face!" he barked, glowering at Naruto. Oh, his head hurt. . .maybe coming to school had been a bad idea.

"He's wearing make-up," Sakura told the blond with a nod.

"Am not," Sasuke grumbled.

"Are too," Ino accused, pointing a finger at him.

Itachi walked into the room, followed by Orochimaru. He looked at Sasuke. "Did you get that garish make-up off your face?" he asked, before sitting down and ignoring Sasuke.

The younger Uchiha fumed. Sakura and Ino cheered in victory, and Naruto just started laughing. "Sasuke-bastard's wearing make-up! Oh-ho, isn't that precious!"

Sasuke hit him. "Shut up, idiot!"

"Ow," Naruto whimpered, rubbing his head and closing his eyes. "Jeez, who pissed in your cereal this morning?"

"Nobody," Sasuke snarled. "I didn't have breakfast."

"Didn't have breakfast?" Sakura and Ino chorused in horror. They were back to being annoying - in unison.

"You can't not have breakfast!" Ino scolded.

"It's not healthy!" Sakura exclaimed. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!"

"And you two have breakfast all the time," Naruto said, jumping to Sasuke's defensive, despite the fact that the Uchiha had just smashed him over the head and called him an idiot.

The girls fell silent and looked at the floor. Iruka walked into the room at that point, raising an eyebrow. There were people in the room, but dead silence. None of them were talking. "Odd," he muttered, eyeing his students as if he thought they were all aliens.

He marched down the steps and into his office. The door closed behind him. Sakura and Ino moved to their seats. Sasuke took his and continued polishing his flute. He hadn't cleaned it in about a week. It was starting to sound a little funny.

Naruto sat down at the piano and cracked his knuckles, which earned him a glare from everyone in the room. He grinned raucously and started playing "Chopsticks". Sakura and Ino groaned. Sasuke buried his head in his hands. He was now sure that school hadn't been a good idea.

Slowly, the band members filtered into the room. At start time, Iruka walked into the room, and they struck up, the sound bellowing into the room and echoing. Sasuke's head throbbed unappreciatively. They played the piece through, without any mistakes or interruptions.

Iruka clapped from them when they finished. "Very good!" he crowed, like the victor of some major competition. "That'll get us gold for sure!"

He sounded as if he were about to start cackling evilly. Naruto shuddered, and studied the notes on his music sheet. He didn't think he'd ever heard Iruka cackle evilly, and he didn't want to either. Iruka had stopped practice now, and was blathering to them about their club photo for the yearbook.

The bell that signalled classes were going to start in five minutes rang. Iruka jumped, startled and looked at the clock. The students had started getting up and were moving toward their respective classes. "Remember, next week is our last regular rehearsal!" he called after them.

"Hard to believe another semester's almost over, huh?" Naruto asked Sasuke as they climbed up the stairs.

He shrugged. "Not really, I suppose," he said, with a frown.

"You know what I mean," Naruto said, giving him a playful shove. "Next year, we only have two more years of high school left, and then, we're outta here!"

"Hn," Sasuke said, sounding a bit thoughtful. "That's only if you don't flunk out, idiot."

"Eh?" Naruto said, stopping. Then, he frowned in anger and caught up to the Uchiha boy. "Are you implying that I'm gonna fail? 'Cause if you are, you're dead wrong, Uchiha!"

"We'll see about that," Sasuke replied with a smirk.

- - - - - - - - -

Hinata didn't miss many days of school, unless she was sick. Today, however, was a special day. She'd been asked to stay home from school, to help TenTen get settled back into the house.

Neji was part of the branch house, it was true, but since his mother had died, Hinata had automatically been raised to the position of female care provider. Neji and his father would have no idea what to do with TenTen and the baby.

The truth was, she didn't have any idea what to do with TenTen and the baby either. She'd never changed diapers, or rocked a baby to sleep. She'd never been permitted to hold her baby sister. It was just the way things were in the main house. She didn't even think her own mother had taken care of her sister. It wasn't something that a lady of high stature did. If she could, she would get other women to take care of her children for her.

Despite this, Hinata was somehow expected to know what to do with an infant. She would have much rather been at school, or even better, hanging out with Kiba somewhere, instead of in that room, propping TenTen up with pillows and rocking the sleeping infant in her arms.

"I'm sorry to be such a bother," TenTen said, shaking her head. "I mean. . ."

At least she was apologetic about it, though there was no need for it. "You're not a bother," Hinata told her with a shy smile. "It's not your fault."

They were silent for a little while. "Have you thought of a name yet?" Hinata asked, after she'd put the baby back in his crib, where he continued to sleep happily.

"No," TenTen replied. "We weren't sure. . ."

"It's okay," Hinata said, smiling. "I can't think of anything. I'm sure Neji will, though."

"I'm sure he will," TenTen echoed hollowly. "I'd like to hold him." She held out her arms.

"Right," Hinata said, and got the baby out of his crib, and handed him off to TenTen. She winced as she held the squirming thing.

She'd always played with dolls when she was little. She'd had a great many of them, and she'd had all sorts of things for them - a new dress for every day, a stroller, a crib and lots of baby blankets that always smelled like detergent. She'd always pretended she was their mother.

But now that she held an actual baby, a baby that was so floppy, yet squirming and moved of its own volitation, she didn't want to be a mother anymore. It scared her a little. The baby had a weight to it that her dolls had never had and she didn't like holding the baby at all.

TenTen, on the other hand, looked perfectly content holding the child, who squirmed and wailed a little bit. TenTen cooed at him and rocked him back and forth, trying to shush him back to peaceful sleep. Hinata supposed that was because it was her child, her only child and she was doomed to love him, no matter what he did.

She sighed. She'd never really believed that. That was simply what society wanted her to believe about women and their children. Society wanted her to believe that women always placed their children ahead of themselves, and protected their children to the very end.

She knew for a fact that wasn't true in all cases. She knew it wasn't true, especially in Kiba's case.


	43. Scorch

(A/N: Sorry about the late updated. This week has been hectic. Once again, we continue with the no-plotness. I apologize. Thanks to everyone who reviewed.)

And the Beat Goes On

Chapter 43: Scorch

"Man, oh man, is it ever hot out here!" Naruto whined, tucking his arms behind his head and looking skyward.

"Hn," Sasuke said.

Naruto glanced over at him, frowning. He knew the other boy had to be too warm. He was wearing a dark-coloured t-shirt, and his bangs were starting to stick to his forehead. He just wasn't going to admit it. He was Uchiha Sasuke. Human glaciers didn't sweat.

Naruto elbowed him. "Ah, don't be a prick. I know you're _sweltering._ Your face is all flushed."

"Where the hell did you learn a word like sweltering?" Sasuke asked, stopping and raising an eyebrow.

"A dictionary!" Naruto said, grinning widely. "Tsunade-old-hag threw one at me yesterday - don't you remember that?"

"No," Sasuke said slowly.

"Hmph," Naruto said, crossing his arms and putting on his 'thoughtful' face. "Maybe that's 'cause. . .oh, right. You were having some 'technical difficulties' with your costume."

Sasuke's face got a touch redder. "Don't talk about that," he grumbled.

"Aw, why not?" Naruto cooed mockingly. "Doesn't wittle Princess Sasuke like his dresses?"

Sasuke decked him. Naruto clutched at his nose, going cross-eyed in order to see it. "Oh, gods, by dose! You droke by dose!"

"I did not," Sasuke snorted, and kept walking. "Now get moving. Iruka will kill you if you're late."

Naruto held onto his nose gingerly, then dabbed at it with his fingers, checking for blood. "I know, you bastard," he said, his voice still a little obscured by the punishment his nose had received, but not as bad as before.

He caught up to Sasuke and walked along side him. "Jeez, you act like my mom or something. Naruto, do this, Naruto do that! Bah!"

Sasuke slowed his pace a little bit, and fell in step with Naruto, walking behind him. He reached out and pushed him solidly, sending him flying down the sidewalk. The blond stumbled, and nearly fell flat on his face. Sasuke was disappointed that he didn't.

"Bastard!" Naruto cried, turning about and shaking his fist at the Uchiha boy. "What the hell was that for?"

"Tch. You're so slow," Sasuke grumbled, crossing his arms. "A turtle could get to your house faster."

"Are you saying I'm slow?" Naruto fumed.

Sasuke rolled his eyes. "Not just physically," he muttered.

"Asshole!" Naruto yelled. "I'm faster than you! I could beat you, any day, hands down!"

"Oh?" the dark-haired boy said, turning his head to the side a little, as if intrigued. "Wanna race?"

"Fine!" the blond barked. "You're on!"

"Last one there has to explain to Iruka why we're ten minutes late," Sasuke said.

"Better start thinking of good excuses!" Naruto called, and Sasuke blinked.

"Hey!" he shouted at Naruto. "You cheating asshole! I haven't said go yet!"

Naruto snickered and turned around, proceeding to dash headlong down the sidewalk. "Gonna beat Sasuke, gonna absolutely kick his ass at this," he chortled to himself.

"Who's kicking whose ass?" Sasuke asked, and Naruto looked to his left to see Sasuke keeping pace with him and glaring like there was no tomorrow.

"How did you - but!" the blond stammered, glancing back over his shoulder.

Sasuke pulled away from him. "Never look back!" he called.

Naruto started slowing down, his eyes wide. Then, he grit his teeth and glowered at Sasuke's retreating back. "Bastard," he snarled, and started running just as fast as his legs would let him.

- - - - - - -

Iruka was minding his own business, getting his mark books out of the car. Things were getting down to the wire at school, with another school year dangerously close to its end. In just a week's time, the students would be writing their final exams. Just a week ago he'd been reminding the students about the last band practice of the year, and now, even that was history. He sighed.

Then, he was nearly run over by a blur of orange. He barley had time to exclaim, "What the -", before he was nearly run over by a blur of blue and black.

Naruto had skidded to a stop on the doorstep. "Hah!" he cried, pointing at the blue-black blur, which turned out to be Sasuke. "I win, so you have to tell Iruka why we're late!"

"You did not win," Sasuke retorted, making a sour face, "idiot."

"I did so, asshole! Iruka, tell him I won!"

"What is wrong with you two?" Iruka asked, shaking his head and reaching into the car to get the rest of his marking.

"I won the race here, so Sasuke has to tell you why we're late!" Naruto cried, dancing triumphantly.

"Why are you late?" Iruka asked, his voice bordering on dangerous.

"Well, Sasuke?" Naruto asked, crossing his arms and smirking at the Uchiha. "You'd better have a good excuse. . ."

Sasuke turned around to face Iruka. The brunet teacher closed the door of his car and looked at the Uchiha boy. "Well?" he said, sounding impatient.

"Naruto distracted me," Sasuke said, calmly, his face expressionless.

"Uh?" Naruto cried. "Asshole! You can't blame this on me!"

Iruka raised an eyebrow. "Distracted you how?" he asked, looking doubtful. He didn't believe what Sasuke was saying.

"With his hands," Sasuke replied, stoic as ever, "and his mouth."

"What!" Naruto cried.

Iruka's eyes got comically wide, and he shook his head. "I did not need to hear that," he said, picking up his marking and marching toward to door. "Next time, don't bother explaining."

He unlocked the front door and slammed it shut behind him. Naruto glowered at Sasuke. "You lying bastard," he snarled.

Sasuke shrugged. "You're not in trouble are you?" he asked, smirking slyly.

Naruto gritted his teeth and growled. "Oh, you! I oughtta!"

Iruka poked his head back outside, glowering at them. "You two are going to study in the kitchen, where I can keep an eye on you," he said, his eyes narrowing in distrust. "Now get inside."

The two boys dutifully did as they were told.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"Ah, only a week more of school and then, we're done forever," Orochimaru said, flipping through a text book with disinterest.

Itachi flipped over some papers. "Speak for yourself," he muttered.

"Ah, right, right," the older teen said. "I keep forgetting you're going to get a 'higher education'." He snorted disdainfully.

"And what are you doing?" Itachi asked, sounding neither disdainful or interested.

"Me?" Orochimaru asked, pointing to himself. "Why, I'm going to get a job!"

"Doing what?" Itachi asked, chewing on the end of his pen. "Repetitive factory work?"

"Hey, it pays well," the serpentine boy said. "That's more than you can say about your education. You're paying them."

"True," the Uchiha heir agreed. "But psychiatric work pays just as well as your factory job, and is never, ever dull."

"No," Orochimaru quipped, "you just get to play with the loonies all day."

"I do anyway," Itachi muttered, looking for another sheet.

"Feh," Orochimaru said, throwing the textbook away from him and sprawling out across the sofa. "You don't need a PhD to tell someone they're crazy."

"No, but you need one to diagnose someone as insane," Itachi replied. "Saying you're crazy, and diagnosing someone as insane are two different things."

Orochimaru sat up. "Whatever," he said. "You have to deal with people. Really fucking crazy people. I'm just going to have to deal with a machine."

"Lots of people in factories tend to go crazy," Itachi said, "from the monotony of it all."

"Bah!" Orochimaru cried. "I can't get any crazier than I already am, and if I do, I've got you to sort me out."

He grinned wickedly at the younger teen. Itachi didn't even look up at him. Orochimaru flopped back on the sofa again. "Admit it, weasel-boy, you're just going for the parties."

"That's the last thing I'm going for," Itachi said. "I've had enough of your parties to last me a lifetime."

"Ooh, hey, you're going to have college friends," Orochimaru said, sitting up. "Do you think there'll be any hot sorority girls?"

"Lecher," Itachi said. "Of course there will be sorority girls. You might want to watch out for them though. They might ask you to join."

"They'd ask you first," Orochimaru said, "you've got better hair."

He squealed, throwing his voice up as high as it would go. "Oooh, Itachi! How do you get your hair so smooth and soft? Teach us your secrets!"

The textbook he'd thrown away came back to smite him, courtesy of Itachi. The older teen rubbed his nose. "You're cruel," he said, glowering at the younger boy.

"I try," he replied.

"Hey, hey," Orochimaru said. "When you get done there, do you think you could give me a hand with studying for this science exam of ours? I don't get it and I'm failing the class. . ."

"Good," Itachi said. "Maybe you'll flunk."

"You have no heart, do you?" Orochimaru asked, sulking.

"No," the Uchiha heir said. "I tore it out and chewed it up. And then, I gave it to you."

"Ew," the serpentine boy said, coiling away as if he was disgusted. "You're sick."

"Will you stop telling me things I already know?"

"Probably not," he replied, smirking. "Not until you get over here and teach me some things I don't know."

"Well, there was this thing I saw on television, where this guy was -"

"Does it have anything to do with science?" Orochimaru asked.

"The science of the human body and contortions, yes," he replied.

"Sounds like fun! Teach me!"

- - - - - - - - - -

"Hey, Hinata!"

The brunette girl glanced up from the books she was carrying. She'd been trying to navigate the front steps to the school, without tripping and falling. She'd taken all last week off school, because of TenTen and the baby. She was so behind in her school work now, it was ridiculous.

Kiba was walking down the steps, followed by Shino. "Where have you been?" the Inuzuka boy asked, taking some of her textbooks without even asking if she needed some help. He passed some off to Shino, who said nothing, but carried the books willingly.

"Ah, my cousin's girlfriend had her baby," she said, "and she came home last week from the hospital."

"Oh?" Kiba said, blinking. "You don't tell me anything, do you?"

She looked away and blushed. "I-it's strictly family business," she stuttered.

"Oh," he said, "I get it." He sounded a little angry.

She looked at him worriedly. "W-we weren't supposed to let anyone know about it," she said, "after all, the baby is -"

He waved his hand dismissively, sighing. "I don't understand why all you people gotta be so goddamn secretive. So what if the kid's a bastard?"

Hinata went red, and looked down at the ground. "I-it's just that -"

"You're Hyuugas, and you can't let anything ruin your prissy little reputation," he snarled, then snorted. "Get down off your high horse already! People fuck up."

"Hey," she said softly, looking away at the ground. She could feel tears in her eyes. She wanted to say something to defend her family, but could think of nothing to say. Kiba's brutal honesty was absolutely right.

"I think that's enough," Shino said, stepping in to her rescue.

Kiba glanced at his normally silent friend, catching the warning in his tone. It was time to put up or shut up. He looked at Hinata, then away again. He sighed and put his arms behind his head. "Ah, well, ya know. That's just the way things are,"

"Kiba," Hinata said, clearing her throat and looking up.

"Ah?" he asked, turning to her. "Yeah?"

She blushed and looked away. "I, um, need t-to talk to you," she said, pressing her knuckles to her lips, as if to seal them shut.

"Yeah, sure," he said, turning to her. "Go ahead."

She looked up at him, and then, glanced at Shino. She made a small noise and looked away again. Shino handed the textbooks back to Kiba. "I think she means alone," he said.

"Oh," Kiba said, realizing. He really, really sucked with girls, and he was just noticing it now.

"I'll see you later," Shino said, with a small wave and walked off, jamming his hands in his pockets.

"See ya!" Kiba called, waving to his best friend. He turned to face Hinata. "Is there something wrong?" he asked, doing his best to be concerned.

"I-I. . .is your mother married?" she asked, glancing up at him quickly, then looking back at the ground and the gravel she was kicking around with her feet.

Kiba looked away, his upper lip curling in a sneer. "Yeah," he said, "or was."

"Was?" Hinata asked, looking up. "S-she's divorced?"

"No," Kiba said gruffly, jamming his hands into his pockets. He wouldn't look at her. "My father's dead."

"Oh!" Hinata cried, hesitating for only a second when she reached out to touch him. Her hand was pressed lightly to his wrist, and he frowned. "I'm sorry!"

He shrugged. "It don't matter now," he said.

"I-it must be hard," she said, and her touch was so light. It seemed like she was going to withdraw. Maybe she thought he didn't want her to touch him?

Bah, he was a boy. He'd have to be crazy not to want her to touch him. He moved his hand and entwined it with hers. "It don't matter," he said, meeting her eyes. "He's dead, and I can't change it."

"Still," she said thoughtfully, unable to meet his gaze and looking away. "I-I shouldn't have -"

"You'd have found out sooner or later," he said, with a shrug. He didn't want to deal with this right now, but he guessed it was better that she found out from him than from that witch -

"I m-met your mother."

"What?" he asked, staring at her. "You met her! When?"

"L-last week. Y-you were out with Akamaru," the Hyuuga heiress stuttered. "And. . .she opened t-the door and -"

"What did she say to you?" Kiba asked, looking utterly concerned about her. "If she was rude to you, I swear, I'll kill her -"

"Kiba! She's your own mother!" Hinata barked. He winced and recoiled from her. He'd never seen her get so worked up.

"I don't care," he muttered.

"That's horrible," she said, and her face creased up. "She's your mother, for the love of-"

"I don't care," he snarled. "She sure as hell doesn't act like she's my mother!"

Hinata looked away from him. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "It wasn't my place."

"Hinata," he sighed. He really, really sucked at these things.

"Y-you don't love her?" she asked, tipping her head to the side.

He shook his head. His clenched his fists, and tried to bite his tongue. "I hate her, Hinata. She. . .she! Gods, she screwed up everything Dad worked so hard for! And then he died, and she - that's why I live where I do! She's a selfish bitch!"

"Kiba!" Hinata pleaded.

"I'm sorry, but goddamn, it's the truth!" he barked, turning away. "It's the goddamned truth."

"Kiba," she said.

"Don't," he growled. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Does she hate you?"

He'd been dreading that question, and he felt his stomach bottom out when she said it. There was a long silence between them. The clouds scudded by in the blue sky. He sighed. "Yeah," he said, weakly, "she hates me. She. . .she has to, with the way. . ."

"Don't say anymore," Hinata said, giving his hand a squeeze. "Don't say anything."

"She. . .she's pissed off at the world, 'cause she's got no money, and two kids and -"

"Kiba," Hinata said, and he looked down at her.

She smiled up at him, shyly. Her arms were curled about his elbow and she was leaning up toward him. "I said not to say anymore," she whispered, and then, blushing furiously, sealed his lips with hers so that he couldn't speak.

He cupped her cheek. He hadn't touched her since that night. He wasn't sure just exactly how she'd felt about being touched after that, and he had wanted her to make the first move, to tell him she was okay with everything.

She was shy, and it had taken her forever. He'd been beginning to think that she wouldn't ever make the first move. She was just too shy, too nice to ever do anything like that. . .

He was the first to pull back. "Hinata," he panted.

"No," she whispered, "shush."

She curled a finger to his lips, and smiled at him. "You said you didn't want to talk."

She leaned in again, and his inner pervert was cheering in triumph. He was so glad she wasn't able to hear it. It would have most definitely wrecked the moment. He wrapped his arms about her - gods, she was so slim and slight in his grasp. He felt like he could crush her. He felt like she was china, porcelain, the good dishes kept in the cabinet for when company came over, and he had to be so, so careful, because he was a boy and boys were clumsy and dropped things.

Things shattered when you dropped them. He had to hang onto her. He couldn't drop her, but he couldn't hold her too tightly either. He had to be gentle, and careful . .

He parted her lips, and she gave to him, crumbling to his will. She was so submissive. He wished she was a little more aggressive, instead of passively standing there, letting him plunder her mouth, shyly dancing around the invader. It was coy, it was seductive, but she was just too shy to play at being a vixen.

She pulled away from him. "I've got to go," she said, smiling still.

"Uh, me too," he said, feeling a little dazed and a little confused. "Akamaru needs to go for a walk."

She blushed furiously, suddenly, looking away. "Oh!" she cried, holding her hands to her face.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

She shook her head, and turned around, and started walking away. "I-I've got to go, Kiba," she stuttered. "I-I'll see you later!"

And she ran off. He could only stare after her.

- - - - - - - -

"Aw, crap!" Ino exclaimed.

"Here, here!" Sakura said, quickly grabbing some napkins and handing them to the blonde girl, who desperately tried to mop up the ice cream that had just dripped onto her textbook.

"Pineapple-head!" she barked, turning to the counter of ice cream parlour.

Shikamaru rolled his eyes at the nickname. "What?" he asked, with a sigh.

"Your freezer must not be working! My ice cream is dripping all over the place!" she said with a frown.

"Maybe it's because you let it sit there for over half-an-hour," Choji pointed out helpfully.

"I thought you were on my side," Ino said, turning to glower at the brunet.

Choji looked away, hastily busying himself with eating his own sundae. Ino sighed. "The teacher better not try to hold that as damages," she grumbled, looking forlornly at the stain on the book.

"At least you were studying," Sakura said brightly, "unlike Shikamaru and Choji."

"Studying, feh," Shikamaru said, turning away to take a few swipes at the counter with a wet cloth. It was pretty much clean anyway, he decided.

"Oh, oh!" Ino said, perking up. "Did you hear?"

"No!" Sakura cried, leaning forward. "What happened? What happened?"

"You know Hinata's cousin Neji, and his girlfriend, TenTen?"

"Yeah," Sakura said, "whatever happened to her?"

"Well," Ino said, tossing her head, as if she were high and mighty. She was, after all, the reigning Queen of Gossip. "She dropped out, 'cause she got pregnant. She just had the baby!"

"A baby?" Sakura asked, her eyes getting wide and round. "She's only a year older than us!"

"I heard she had a c-section," Ino told her.

"What's a c-section?" Choji asked, looking up from his sundae at last. "Does it have anything to do with food?"

The girls looked at him blankly, then looked away, chattering to each other. "That's why Hinata took all last week off from school," Ino concluded.

"Oh?" Sakura said. "Why would she have to stay home?"

"TenTen's still recovering. I mean, hello, they did kind of slit her open," the blonde girl said.

"Oh, right," Sakura said, sighing. "Was it a boy or a girl?"

"Boy," Ino replied.

"How do you know this?" the pink-haired girl asked her, frowning.

Ino shrugged. "It's just what I've heard," she said.

The girls yakked on about this and that, and didn't really get any studying done. Shikamaru stood behind the counter and looked at the window, watching the clouds outside roll by. It had been a hot day. He was glad to be in the shop, if only because they had air conditioning. In this heat, it was troublesome even to lie outside in the grass.

"Aw, crap," he muttered, looking down at the counter.

"What is it?" Sakura asked, looking over Ino's shoulder at him.

"Mom wants me to mow the lawn when I get home," he said with a sigh.

"It'll do you good, Shika," Ino told him, pushing her sundae toward Sakura. The pink-haired girl regarded it with a wince.

"It's all melted," she said.

"Do you want it?" Ino asked.

"No," Sakura replied. "It's all melted and. . .goopy."

"I'll eat it," Choji said. "Never let food go to waste!"

Ino hit him over the head with a spoon. "You've had more than enough," she said, crossly.

"Just let him have it," Shikamaru said. "It's less of a mess for me to clean up."

Ino sighed. Choji cried in triumph and dug into the bowl of melted ice cream. The two girls grimaced, then looked back at their textbooks. "So, um, how about science?" Sakura asked.

"Science indeed," Ino said, agreeing.

They turned to the same page in their textbooks. Ino wilted a little bit. "Man," she said with a sigh, "this is so boring."

"You don't want to fail, do you?" Sakura asked.

"No, but. . .ugh. Who cares about ions and stupid stuff like that?" she asked, sounding a little cross. Spending all day in a hot school had made her a little bit cranky.

Sakura ran a hand through her hair. "Do you want to be stuck working in a dirty factory all your life?" she asked, sitting up a little straighter. She looked like she was being prim.

"Hey," Choji said, through a mouthful of ice cream, "not all factories are dirty. My dad works at a factory."

"Have you ever been inside?" Sakura asked, sounding almost snide.

"Well," he said, looking thoughtful, "no, not really."

Sakura nodded and turned back to Ino. "Do you want to be doing factory work all your life?" she asked.

"Do I need to know about ions to do factory work all my life?" Ino asked, grumbling.

"No," Sakura said. "But it's dirty."

"There are worse things than factories," Shikamaru said, leaning on the counter and staring out into space.

"Oh, shut up. You two aren't helping," she said, glowering at them, before turning back to Ino, her unmotivated study partner.

"Ions it is," Ino muttered.

- - - - - - -

"So, if the train is travelling at-"

"Sasuke, you're asking all the hard questions," Naruto whined, crossing his arms.

"No whining," Sasuke growled, glowering at the blond.

Naruto sprawled out across the couch. "You're mean," he said, sticking out his tongue.

" -Sixty-seven kilometres an hour, and it left the station at -"

"Ask me the easy questions! I can answer those!"

" - eight-twenty-eight pm, and was travelling toward Suna, which is five hundred and twenty-two kilometres away -"

"I don't know!" Naruto cried throwing his hands up in the air.

"I haven't even finished asking you the question," Sasuke said.

"But I don't know how to solve the question," Naruto whined. "Maybe the train blew up, for all I know!"

Sasuke sighed, and looked in the back of the book for the answer. His eyes widened. "You're right," he said, "the train did blow up."

"Don't joke around," Naruto said angrily, pouting.

"The train blew a gasket just after pulling out of the station, and never made it to Suna," Sasuke said, blinking.

"Let me see that," Naruto said. "Where the hell does it say that!"

"It doesn't," Sasuke said with a smirk. "You're so gullible, moron."

Naruto sat back and crossed his arms. "You're so mean, asshole. Ask me some questions I know the answers to."

"It doesn't help you learn if you already know the answers," Sasuke said with a sigh.

"At least I can answer them! This is too hard for me!"

"I'm asking you the hard ones so you know how to do them for the final exam!" Sasuke barked.

"I won't need to," Naruto said stubbornly.

"You will so!" Sasuke said. "Do you expect them to ask you all the easy questions?"

The phone started to ring. "Telephone!" Naruto shouted, jumping up from his place on the sofa and bouncing off it, into the kitchen.

Sasuke sighed and nursed his building headache. The house was hot, because there was no air conditioner. Sasuke would have rather gone home, where it was cold, and he at least had a pool. Naruto was still grounded though, until the end of the week.

Naruto ran back into the room, leaping over Sasuke and landing on the couch. "Who was that?" Iruka called from the kitchen, where he was cleaning up from dinner.

"Gaara!" Naruto called back.

Sasuke winced at the name. He didn't care if Naruto was related to the red-headed freak or not, he still hated the name.

"Who?" Iruka asked.

"A friend from school!" the blond called. "He's coming over -"

He shut his mouth abruptly, realizing he was still grounded and he wasn't supposed to have anybody over. Sasuke winced. He really didn't want to be there if Gaara was going to be there.

"You're not allowed to have friends over, Naruto!" Iruka called back. "You're still grounded. Sasuke's only here to help you study."

"Gaara's bringing something over," Naruto replied. "To help me study."

Sasuke slowly got to his feet. "I'll be going then," he said, closing his textbook with his foot and reaching down to get it.

"No!" Naruto cried, lunging at him, and latching onto him, knocking them both over into a heap of tangled limbs.

Sasuke hit him over the head with the textbook. "Moron," he growled.

"You can't go!" Naruto cried. "Who will teach me how to solve all the ridiculously hard problems!"

"Get Gaara to," Sasuke growled. "You're going to study with him."

"Erm, he's failing too," Naruto said, sheepishly. "He wanted some help with writing an essay, and he thinks I'm good at English, for some reason, so he's bringing it over, and I thought, well, you're here, so you can look it over, 'cause you're way better than me at- mmmpf."

"Shut up," Sasuke growled, clapping a hand over the blond's mouth. "You talk too much."

He started to try and disentangle himself from Naruto, and Iruka walked into the room then. He dropped the dish he'd been drying. Luckily, it was plastic, so it didn't shatter. "Um," he said.

Naruto blinked and looked at the brunet teacher. "What?" he asked, as clueless and naive as ever.

"Get off of me," Sasuke snarled, shoving at the blond.

"Hey, hey, what's your problem?" he asked, frowning at Sasuke.

"You're supposed to be studying science, not Sasuke's anatomy!" Iruka barked, blushing furiously.

"Eh?" Naruto asked, surprised. "Aw- crap! Iruka, this isn't what it looks like!"

The teacher picked up his dish and walked into the kitchen, grumbling to himself about irrepressible teenagers and their out-of-control hormones.

Naruto pulled back from Sasuke and got back up on the sofa. Sasuke sat down on the floor and opened up his textbook again. He sighed.

"I thought we could get that whole mess between you and him sorted out," Naruto said.

He looked up. "What mess?" he growled.

Naruto looked a little nervous. "You know, the one where he. . .uh, you. . ," he said, waving his hand.

"There is nothing to sort out," he snarled.

"Well, I just thought," Naruto said huffily.

They glared at each other for a few minutes, before Sasuke finally looked away and flipped through his textbook.

"There is so stuff for you two to sort out," the blond huffed.

Sasuke was about to say something, when the doorbell rang.


	44. Final Exams

(A/N: Sorry this took so freakin' long to get out. Life caught up. Thanks for the reviews! Once again, there's no real plot to this - and no answers to any of the questions that were asked. I'm sorry. This is the last full chapter - there is an epilogue to follow, which also doesn't answer any questions. Wohoo. I'm good at that. Enjoy the fic.)

And the Beat Goes On

Chapter 44: Final Exams

Another end to another year. It was the inevitable, and now, it had finally come and a sense of finality pervaded everything they did. This was the last time he was going to open this locker, and shut it again. He made sure he took the lock with him when he went.

In a way, it was sort of a heavens-sent relief, but on the other hand, it made him reminisce and hope that things could stay the same. He hadn't actually wished for that in a long time, and he'd never thought he'd apply it to the end of the school year. All his life, school had been nothing but hell, and he'd longed merely to have it over with. It had always been the days of summer vacation he'd wanted to prolong forever and ever.

It wasn't that he could wait for summer to begin, or wished that school would never end. No, that wasn't the case. He was sick of the teachers, and the homework and the funny smell that pervaded all the hallways of the building.

It was the fact that. . .well, things would never be quite the same again. Next year, next year, when he came back, there would be a whole new schedule of classes, and new teachers, new students, new locker. . .

The list went on and on. He'd never be in the tenth grade anymore. He'd never worry about grade ten math problems or the grade ten English exam. It was over. It was all over.

Every pen stroke on the paper in front of him brought him closer to the inevitable end. Each pen stroke brought him closer to finishing the exam, finishing the class, finishing the grade, finishing the year. Every pen stroke helped the clock countdown to the very end of what seemed like a lifetime spent in jail, when it had only been so many months of his life.

He glanced absently out the window he'd chosen to sit beside. The sky was blue and the sun was shining, hot and bright outside. The trees were in full leaf and there were flowers strewn all across the green lawn. It reminded him that he was so very close to summer vacation. He could practically taste it.

The room was sticky and sweaty. His bangs were sticking to his face, and it made it hard to see his paper. He wanted nothing more than to get out of that room and be free. This was his last exam. After this, he'd be free for two whole months. Then, this whole shenanigan would start up again.

"Put down your pencils," the teacher called at last, and there was the resounding clack of twenty-eight pencils hitting the hard tops of the desks. Then, the rustling of papers, the sound of the stapler, binding all their sheets together. Then, they were dismissed.

They shuffled out of the room, their feet scraping against the dirty floor. He was done. He was finished with it all. The year was over. What a year it had been.

- - - - - -

"Ah-ha, I'm all done my exams!" Naruto cried, ecstatically.

Sasuke scowled at him from the bedroom floor, before turning his attention back to his textbook. "Shut up, moron," he snarled.

"You suck so much," Naruto jibed, grinning broadly. "I'm going to spend all day in your pool tomorrow, while you go to school and write your two hour science exam in the heat!"

"And then I'll come home and drown you," Sasuke said drily, never lifting his eyes from the page.

"Aw, c'mon! You wouldn't do that," Naruto told him, in a very self-assured manner.

Sasuke's eye twitched in annoyance. "Sure I would. The police would believe that your own stupidity managed to drown you."

"You're cruel," the blond said, punching the other boy in the arm, frowning, and flopping down on the bed.

Sasuke didn't bother to retaliate. He knew he wasn't doing as well in his classes as he should have been, and he knew that he had to get a good mark on the exam to even fathom bringing his mark up any. Naruto had told him he was just being a perfectionist, but he had a record of attaining ninety or higher in each of his classes. He was damned if he was going to break it.

"Ah, you study too hard," Naruto said, rolling over onto his stomach and looking down at the other boy. "You need to take a break."

"A break?" Sasuke asked, raising an eyebrow. "Would a break be anything like that hour-long break you took when we were studying for your science exam last night?"

"Of course," Naruto said, smiling. "You can't just take a small break. You have to take a good long break, otherwise your brain gets overheated and goes to mush."

He tapped the side of Sasuke's head, not surprised at all when the other boy tried to swat him away. "My brain wouldn't go to mush, moron," he grumbled, "only yours, because you don't exercise it enough."

"Oy," he said, crossing his arms and frowning, "I do so exercise my brain. Just other parts of it."

"The animal instincts?" Sasuke asked, turning a page in his notes.

"'course," Naruto replied with a satisfied nod. "Those are the only good parts of the mind."

Sasuke sighed and said nothing. Naruto watched him for a moment or two, then poked him in the temple again. "I'm hungry," he whined, "let's go get something to eat."

"You know where the kitchen is. Go yourself," Sasuke snarled, "I'm busy."

"I'm not!" Naruto cried. "You know why? 'Cause I'm all done my exams!"

The blond proceeded to try and create a little ditty about being finished his exams, but he'd never been any good at rhyming things. "I'm done my exams," was about as far as he got, and his song turned into a chant.

"Shut up!" Sasuke hollered at last, Naruto's voice grating on his ears and his nerves. He hit the blond square in the face with his textbook.

"Ow," the blond said, peeling the hefty book from his visage. "That hurt, you know!"

"Good," Sasuke grumped, "it was supposed to."

"Cruel," Naruto said, shaking his head in dismay, "absolutely heartless."

"Give me back my textbook," he said, ignoring the blond, and holding his hand out.

"No," the blond retorted, "you gave it to me."

"I did not," he snorted.

"Sure ya did," Naruto replied cheekily. "You threw it at me. That's just like giving it to me."

"Give it back, Naruto," Sasuke growled, curling his fingers toward his palm slowly, letting the blond know he was annoyed.

"No," he replied, sticking out his tongue. "It's mine."

"It's mine, now give it back."

"Mine, mine, mine!" Naruto cried. "If you want it back, you'll have to catch me!"

"Dammit, Naruto!"

The blond laughed and rolled off the edge of the bed. Sasuke launched himself over the furniture, nearly skidding into the wall. Naruto chortled and got to his feet, sprinting for the door. "Catch me, catch me, if you can!" he taunted once he was in the relative safety of the hallway, then slammed the door shut and dashed downstairs, holding the textbook above his head like some sort of trophy.

"Get back here! I don't have time for your idiotic games!" Sasuke hollered, throwing open his door, and scrambling to the stairs.

"I'll never give it back! Never!" Naruto cried, turning his head to look back at Sasuke.

He crashed into one Uchiha Itachi, who was standing in the kitchen doorway, looking down at him and frowning. Naruto sprawled across the ground, the textbook falling from his hands. It flopped onto its spine, then crashed open.

Sasuke frowned down at him, looking surly. He picked up his textbook and snapped it shut. Then, he stomped on the blond's hand, just for good measure. "Bastard," he snapped, then turned away, heading back to his room.

"Son of a bitch!" Naruto hollered after him, grabbing his hand and nursing his abused appendage. He glowered up at Itachi. "Dammit, why the hell did you have to stand there? It took me all night to get him down here!"

"My mother was not a bitch," the elder Uchiha said calmly, then walked around the blond.

"Yeah, well, uh. . .screw you too!" Naruto yelled at him, half-heartedly, then got to his feet. Itachi ignored him.

He went into the kitchen, which was dark, and he found some apples sitting on the counter. They looked edible, so he snagged two, one for him and one for Sasuke. He stood there and thought back on the idiotic way this had all started.

And when he thought about it, he thought that even if Sasuke was an ice bitch, and even if Sasuke was another guy, he had it pretty good, compared to how it used to be. He thought about how he used to spend his summers locked inside his house, or in the backyard, but nowhere else. He thought about how, sometimes, when Iruka had gone somewhere, he'd wish for the phone to ring and give him someone to talk to.

He thought about how he was the loser, how he'd been the outcast. He thought about how, last summer, he'd sat on the back stoop with nobody, with his feet in the pond, and the bland taste of apple in his mouth.

He thought about how Sasuke had always been the cool guy, the one everybody wanted to be, to be with, to be anything to. He thought about how sadistic Tsunade was, pairing up the ultimate loser and the ultimate ice block. Nobody had been able to predict the results. He would have thought they'd have killed each other.

And he thought about all the things they didn't talk about. He thought about all the things they didn't say to each other, the things that caused them pain and they buried deep down inside so that they couldn't talk about them. His mother, the orphanage, Sasuke's parents and the distance between everyone and themselves. Sometimes, Naruto thought he'd need a bridge to get across the chasm to talk to Sasuke. Sometimes, he felt like they were pushed too tightly together, so that even a whisper became a yell.

"Bah," he said to himself, then turned around and left his dark thoughts in the dark.

He padded back upstairs, back to Sasuke's room. The boy was there, on the floor, with his textbook open. "Hey," he said, his mood suddenly sombre.

Sasuke looked up. He offered him the apple. "Here," he said.

"I don't like apples," the dark-haired boy said, but took the fruit anyway.

"It's good for you," Naruto said, sprawling out on the bed.

Sasuke said nothing, but glanced at the blond, and then, at the floor. He bit into the apple, making a face at the taste of it, and the way his gums were bitten by the flesh and skin of the food. He hated apples.

"You know, we've got that stupid play tomorrow night," Naruto said, suddenly. There was nothing in his voice. He was just stating facts.

"I know," Sasuke replied, just as dull and bored. He wasn't all that excited about wearing a corset and a dress in front of an audience.

"Do you think anybody will say anything?" Naruto asked.

"About what?"

"About us," the blond said, sitting up. "Kissing."

"What if they do?" Sasuke asked, returning his eyes to the words on the page, and turning the leaf in the book. He was a little nervous about that too. It was bad enough that he'd have to wear a dress and a corset in front of an audience, but he wasn't keen about kissing Naruto in front of an audience.

It wasn't as if anybody's opinion mattered to him, but people's opinions sometimes mattered more to Naruto than the blond let on. He didn't want to hear any harsh words. He usually wasn't the noble type, but he felt it was his duty to protect Naruto.

Sometimes. Sometimes he felt that way. Most of the time, he was pretty sure he could willingly partake in torturing the blond with the cruelest methods available to man. Now was one of those times.

"Aw, is wittle Sasuke scared?" Naruto asked, having launched himself off the bed, without warning, and slung his arms about the Uchiha boy, effectively hugging him and choking him at the same time. Naruto brought new meaning to the phrase "kill with love."

"I'm not scared!" he growled, throwing the squeezing arms off of his person. Naruto might have passed as a boa constrictor.

"It's okay to be scared," Naruto said earnestly. His eyes danced with mockery.

"I'm not scared," Sasuke huffed.

"You don't have to act all tough and stuff, okay? I'm here for you. If you're scared, just say so -"

"I'm not scared, dammit! Now, just shut up," Sasuke snapped, turning away and rubbing his temples. "Noisy idiot. . ."

"Ah, you know you love me," Naruto asserted, leaning over Sasuke's shoulder.

"Go away."

"You wouldn't want me to do that, would you?"

"Yes," Sasuke hissed, turning a page with such ferocity he ripped it.

"Heartless bastard," Naruto griped, moving away from him. "You're absolutely heartless."

"Good," Sasuke replied. "Glad you think that."

Naruto sighed and crawled back onto the bed, shaking his head. "I'll never understand you," he muttered, letting himself sprawl across the bed again. He buried his face in the pillows.

A few minutes, he was sound asleep. Sasuke snorted and shook his head, wincing when he thought of how Naruto drooled when he slept. He was going to have to wash his pillowcases before he went to bed.

"Yuck," he murmured, turning another page in the book, then rubbing at his eyes. He yawned.

The words on the page began to run together, and his eyes throbbed in his sockets. He closed them and rubbed at them, trying to stay awake just a little longer. He only had another three chapters to review before he was done studying. Only another three. . .

- - - - - - -

The day was hot and lazy, and it was only nine in the morning. The humidity had come in thick yesterday, and it seemed to be planning to stay a while. Sasuke knew he should have been studying, but he couldn't be bothered.

It was the first time he'd slept in for a while. He felt at least a little more rested than he had the past few weeks, and he had the idiot to thank for that, although he wouldn't ever admit he was grateful to Naruto for something.

The blond was in the pool currently, splashing around and generally making an ass of himself. Sasuke swore he made enough noise for a herd of toddlers. He just hoped none of the neighbours decided to complain.

He himself had his feet stuck in the pool, but nothing more. Sure, it was hot out, but he couldn't be bothered to find his swim trunks and get changed. He didn't tell Naruto that, because he was pretty sure Naruto would probably suggest going skinny dipping. Sasuke wasn't fond of that idea, even in the dead of night. He wasn't getting into his pool naked in broad daylight.

Naruto attacked his foot again. He'd been doing that sporadically, going silent and diving under the water to swim up to the side and grab the older teen by the ankle. He clearly hadn't figured out that he was visible under the water because the water was clear and it was daytime.

Once again, Naruto ran smack-dab into Sasuke's foot. "Moron," he hissed under his breath, shaking his head.

"Oy!" Naruto cried, coming up from under the water, spluttering and wiping water from his eyes and pressing a hand to his forehead all at once. "What the hell was that for?"

"For being an idiot," Sasuke replied, smirking.

Naruto scowled and rubbed his forehead. "Don't you have an exam to go write?"

"Not 'til one o'clock."

"Dammit, you're here 'til one?" Naruto cried, swimming backwards, away from the wall, flailing his arms.

"Yes," Sasuke replied with a sigh. Honestly, Naruto was so dense sometimes. . .

"Then why don't you come swimming?"

"Don't feel like it."

Naruto leaned against the wall, resting his elbows on the ground. He was treading water. "Why not? It's gotta be hot up there," he said.

Sasuke shrugged. "I don't mind," he said nonchalantly.

"Ah, just get in the pool," Naruto groused. "A little water won't kill you."

"You never know," Sasuke replied, kicking his feet a little bit.

"I'll make you get in the pool," Naruto threatened, narrowing his eyes.

"No, you won't," he retorted, meeting the blond's gaze evenly.

"Don't you think I won't, Uchiha," he growled, shaking his fist in the older teen's direction.

"Leave me alone," he replied, tiredly.

"Something wrong?" Naruto asked, swimming up to the wall once again.

"No," Sasuke replied tartly, "just thinking."

Naruto turned over, onto his back, floating away from the wall, toward the middle of the pool. "Thinkin' about what?"

"None of your business," he snapped, and crossed his arms.

"Sure it is," the blond said, "just tell meee. . ."

"Don't whine," Sasuke chided, frowning. "I hate it when you whine."

"Tell me. . ."

"I've just been thinking," he said. "That's all."

"You can't just think about nothing at all," Naruto said, frowning. He looked concerned. Sasuke hated it when he looked concerned.

He turned away. "Just. . .about. . .you and me, and all this shit and all sorts of stuff," he mumbled. "It's. . .confusing."

"Well," Naruto said, smiling up at the sun. "You'll have all summer to sort it out, right?"

"I don't know if I can sort it out," Sasuke replied solemnly.

"With my help, you can sort anything out!" Naruto cried, sitting up and putting his feet on the bottom of the pool. "I mean, I'm a great master of sorting out the unsorted sorts of things you need to sort."

"You're not smart enough to do word play, okay? Stop trying," Sasuke replied tartly, rubbing at his temples.

Naruto scowled. "You hurt me deeply when you say things like that," he retorted.

"I'm just not sure. . .about anything," he said, huffing and curling in on himself. "I mean. . .I don't know what I mean, but I don't know what to expect when I wake up tomorrow anymore. . ."

"But that's a good thing," Naruto said, nodding sagely as he swam back to the edge. "You want everyday to be full of surprises."

"No, I don't," Sasuke snarled. "I . .I. . ."

"Oh," Naruto said, as if something had just dawned upon him. "You mean bad sorts of things. You're. . ."

He trailed off, then looked at Sasuke, his eyes wide. Then, he snapped them shut and grinned, pointing at Sasuke accusingly. "Ah-ha! I knew you were scared!"

"Idiot!" Sasuke barked. "I'm not scared!"

"You are so," Naruto said mockingly. "You're scared!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"You are too! Just admit you're scared!"

"Fine!" Sasuke roared. "I'm scared! I'm scared that everything's going to fall apart, and I'm scared, 'cause I don't know what the hell's going to happen to you, to me - to . . .us."

Naruto was solemnly silent for a moment or two, sobered by the Uchiha's uncharacteristic outburst. "Whatever happens," he said, "we'll get through it."

"What?" Sasuke snorted. "No pledges of eternal protection?"

Naruto shook his head. "No," he said, frowning at the water in the pool. "Those are dumb. I can't promise you anything, 'cause I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow either. . .I mean, look at Kakashi and Konohamaru -"

He bit his tongue and looked away. "You. . .you can't just be scared of everything," he said, "'cause shit happens, and nothing's going to stop it, no matter how much you try and no matter how much you want it to, 'cause it's scaring you and you can't just lock yourself up somewhere safe, 'cause there's nowhere really safe and -"

"Naruto."

There was a hand on his cheek, tilting his face upwards, and Sasuke was smiling down at him. Naruto smiled a little back. "You're babbling," Sasuke told him, gently, still smiling, and he was leaning forward.

Lips brushed across lips, gentle and chaste, and Sasuke pulled away from the not-kiss and said, very, very softly, "Thank you."

- - - - - - -

"So?" Orochimaru asked, pushing himself away from the wall and following Itachi down the hall.

"What do you think?" the Uchiha heir asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You got in, at the university you wanted, program you wanted, with a scholarship, because you're such a genius," the golden-eyed boy replied.

"Good guess," Itachi said. "Right on the money."

"Figures," Orochimaru spat.

"Jealous?" the younger teen asked, sounding almost mocking.

"Pfft!" Orochimaru replied, waving his hand in dismissal of the thought. "Hell no! You can keep your books and your classes, and your education! I'm outta this hell hole, and I'm never going back to school."

Itachi shook his head and smirked. "That is so like you."

"So," Orochimaru said, "are you going away?"

Itachi took a sharp breath. "Yes," he said.

- - - - - - - -

Sakura peeked out between the curtains, holding a hand to her mouth, trying to stifle a case of nervous giggling. The auditorium was by no means full and in fact, she could see rows and rows of empty seats, but the thought of performing before an audience was still there.

"Is Shikamaru in the audience?" Ino asked, scrambling against the pink-haired girl, as though she was desperate to get a peek.

Sakura let the curtain fall shut, just as Tsunade walked by. "Yes," she hissed, "now calm down."

"Are you serious?" Ino asked, nearly squealing, then peeked out between the curtains. "Pineapple-head actually managed to drag himself here to see a play?"

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Sakura said, folding her arms and snorting.

"Lee's here too," Ino said.

"I know," Sakura replied, sounding a little bit dejected.

"You can always just be friends with him," the blonde girl said, trying to be reassuring. "I'm sure. . .he'd like that better than you ignoring him."

"I know," she said again, sounding as if she was weary of the discussion.

Ino went back to surveying the audience. "Kiba's here, and Neji and TenTen-"

Her eyes got wide and she reeled back in horror. "What?" Sakura asked, moving closer to the curtains. "What is it?"

"Did you see her?" she hissed, whipping around.

"See who?" Sakura demanded, frowning and putting her hands on her hips.

"Temari!" Ino snarled. "That lying, sneaky bitch is here and -"

Sakura grabbed the blonde girl's hands and smiled gently. "Ino," she said, softly, "it doesn't matter."

She squeezed her hands tightly, and Ino bit her lip, then started nodding. "You're right," she said slowly, "it doesn't matter anymore."

- - - - - - -

Iruka glanced about the audience, looking at familiar faces. Some of his students were there, and their parents, who he barely recognized. Most of the staff were there, having gotten free tickets because they were staff. He would have liked to bring Konohamaru with him, but. . .

There was no place for regrets anymore. He couldn't change a thing, and no matter how many days he wasted wishing, he couldn't change anything. The past was irreversible. He found it funny how he had to learn that lesson over and over again.

The curtains were rising, and he couldn't help but note how tattered and worn they seemed. Maybe they'd replace them next year, but he doubted they would. Money was tight in the school system, with no room for frivolities like new stage curtains.

People were applauding, a signal to be silent, that they recognized the show was about to begin. Right now, they were applauding all the hard work and effort that had gone into organizing this event. At the end of the play, they would applaud the performance, and the actors, and the polished feat they accomplished here.

Several students in black walked out onto the stage, their footsteps in unison, like that of soldiers' marches. They seemed to be shadows, phantoms moving out of the dark well of the stage. Their faces were all covered, and they held in their hands an open book. Iruka didn't doubt they were the lines, but he didn't think it detracted from the play all that much. After all, this was the Chorus.

They stopped at the edge of the stage, a line of black shadows. Their voices carried into the auditorium, and echoed, their tongues sliding around the slippery verse. It seemed to him that perhaps the finest talent was given the most unappreciated role. Still, they did their best with it.

There was no music, and he almost wished Tsunade had approached him about that. He would have gladly lent some band members to play and music, he was sure, would have livened the performance. But what could he really expect from a high school performance? It wasn't as if these were real actors. These were students, playing at being actors. It wasn't as if this was a real theatre.

The Chorus scattered and dispersed, like leaves on the wind, rushing toward separate exits. As they did so, the first two characters strode onto the stage, dressed in costumes that did no justice to Tsunade's famed seamstress talent. They toted swords, and Iruka was thankful that this wasn't at all like the Shakespearian play that he'd had to endure when he worked at the elementary school. This was a little more polished.

He closed his eyes and let himself pretend that he was actually watching an upscale performance in a fancy theatre. In his mind, Kakashi was sitting in the empty seat beside him, and they were looking straight ahead, never at each other, though their hands were entwined.

He could almost feel the warmth of Kakashi's hand, wrapped about his own. . .

- - - - - - - - - -

Kiba smiled brightly when he saw Hinata on the stage. She had a small role, sure, but she was playing it with grace and he was proud of her for making it through this performance. To stand up there in front of people and recite lines from memory, it took courage, and this could only be beneficial for Hinata.

She hadn't stammered yet. She'd looked out across the audience, and she'd blushed, probably because she saw him and knew he was there for her, and her alone. She hadn't stammered though, and she hadn't forgotten her lines. That was all he asked from her.

He didn't care if she sounded like she was reciting from a book, because he knew that she really was reciting from a book. He knew that she reserved her emotions for words that deserved them, and he knew that when the time came, she would be able to feel. She was no actor, but she also wasn't Uchiha Sasuke, the human icicle.

Speaking of whom, Kiba would have started laughing when he saw the Uchiha prick, if he'd recognized him when he'd first saw him. Under Tsunade's costuming and Sakura and Ino's careful application of make-up, the boy had been rendered virtually unrecognizable. He certainly made a pretty girl, but Kiba knew better. He was going to mock him so much next year.

Someone had actually started clapping when Romeo had kissed 'Juliet'. Kiba wasn't sure who that person had been, but he was pretty sure they had no clue that there were two guys standing on stage, kissing each other. He was pretty sure the person clapping hadn't known Juliet was a guy.

He wanted to clap every time Hinata got her lines right. He wanted to stand up and cheer when she didn't stutter through a single line in a scene. He wanted to cause a disruption, he wanted to be her personal cheerleader, even if he couldn't really imagine himself doing cartwheels in a skirt. But he knew that he had to sit down and shut up, for the time being, or they'd kick him out.

He knew when he clapped at the end, he was going to have to clap long and hard, so that his hands turned red and hurt, and he was going to have to whistle, and he was going to have to get to his feet and give a standing ovation. But just for Hinata. He couldn't clap just for her right now, so he was going to clap at the end, just for her. It might seem like he was clapping with everyone else, but he wasn't.

He hoped Hinata would know that he was clapping just for her, congratulating her. Her father and her little sister weren't there, but Neji was, and he had directions to take Hinata and TenTen home directly after the play. There would be a rushed hug, maybe and a whisper of, "You did great," before she was whisked off to her home.

So what if his mother scoffed and told him she was a good-for-nothing Hyuuga? He didn't care what she said anymore. He loved Hinata and that was all there was to it. There was nothing more to it than that.

- - - - - - -

Gaara felt that the play went well, though he was by no means an actor. Kankurou had all the art talent in their family. Kankurou nodded his head in approval from the audience, however, so he took that as a good sign. Then again, perhaps it was just encouragement. After all, it was rare that Gaara participated in activities or social events.

Nobody forgot their lines, the audience seemed mildly entertained and nothing disastrously bad happened. All in all, a good play. Well, not necessarily a good play, but a play that at least didn't end in an angry audience and dead actors.

Backstage, after the play, Tsunade was congratulating them all on helping to raise money enough to buy new curtains for the theatre group. She was collecting their costumes, and she seemed very pleased that they'd managed to get through the play without killing anyone.

She made her exit and told them all to bugger off, more or less. Gaara was about to leave, when Naruto shouted over the noise of the milling crowd of actors, "Oy! Pool party for all cast members at Sasuke's tomorrow!

"What?" Sasuke shrilled, grabbing the blond by the collar of his shirt. "When did I agree to this!"

Sakura giggled. Naruto had been counting on Sasuke's ill-tempered reaction, and had enlisted her help to spread the word to their fellow actors. "Two o'clock sharp!" she called to them, cupping her hands about her mouth so she could be heard over the other people. "Refreshments provided! Bring a friend!"

"You too?" Sasuke asked, staring at her in disbelief, though he didn't loosen his chokehold on Naruto one bit.

Ino winced and poked the blond. "You might want to let go of him," she suggested, "he's turning purple."

"Good," Sasuke growled, glowering at the blond as he let him drop to the floor.

"Air!" Naruto gasped, wheezing as he tried to recover from oxygen deprivation.

And in the end, all was well that ended well. Or so it seemed to Gaara, at least because, after all the ups and downs of the past year, and after all the trials and tribulations, twists and turns and seemingly pointless situations, life was looking up. And just as in the music they'd played in class, and in band, just like the beat they'd struggled to keep going, life goes on.


	45. Epilogue: Pool Party!

(A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and support. This is the epilogue, and thus, the story is complete. Finally. Enjoy.)

And the Beat Goes On

Epilogue: Pool Party!

"What the hell?" Orochimaru asked, letting his towel drop from his arm to the ground.

"I have no idea," Itachi replied, also looking in disbelief at his pool.

His pool seemed to have suffered a sudden infestation of people, mostly Sasuke's classmates. There was an abundance of pool toys scattered about the deck, along with water by the gallon, or so it seemed.

There were a couple pitchers of something or other on the table, along with plates of crackers and other edibles. There was a cooler filled with ice and pop on the patio, beside the patio table. All sorts of mismatched patio chairs were littered across the patio.

"What is this, public swim hour at the Uchiha residence?" Orochimaru asked, frowning at all the people in the pool. They seemed to be having a good time, but they were ruining his good time.

"Apparently so," Itachi replied. "What baffles me is why Sasuke let all these people in here. He's not too. . ."

"Friendly," Orochimaru supplied, deadpanning.

"Exactly," Itachi agreed.

"Where is the little brat anyway?" Orochimaru asked, looking around. "He's got all his friends here, but isn't out here?"

"Sounds typical of him," Itachi said.

"Maybe he's plotting ways to kill Naruto," offered a voice from one of the lounge chairs.

It was Nara Shikamaru, who had a pair of ridiculously large sunglasses perched on his face. He was lying on his back, staring up at the sky. From the colour of his skin, he was going to have a very nasty sunburn tomorrow.

"What did Naruto do now?" Orochimaru asked.

"He planned this entire thing, didn't he?" Itachi asked, surveying the 'damage' in his backyard. Yes, this certainly looked like the results of a Naruto plot.

"Yes," Shikamaru replied, never moving to look at them.

"Well, I wouldn't doubt he's trying to drown the dunce in the pool then," Orochimaru said, picking up his forgotten towel.

"That's too simple," Itachi said, "and not bloody enough for Sasuke. Might I suggest looking in the tool shed for him?"

"Actually," Shikamaru said, because he was being surprisingly helpful for one so lazy, "he went inside to hide from the hordes of fangirls who mysteriously found a way to get invited."

"Ah," Orochimaru said.

"Poor boy," Itachi said, without any empathy in his voice.

"Where's the other brat then?" Orochimaru asked, looking around. With his shock of blond hair, Naruto usually wasn't one to be lost in the crowd. He was nowhere to be seen.

Shikamaru shrugged. "It's too troublesome to keep tabs on him," he said with a sigh.

"Lazy ass," Orochimaru muttered.

"Thanks anyway," Itachi said and shoved some chairs out of the way, making for the pool.

"Oy!" Orochimaru called, running after him. "Where the hell are you going?"

"To swim in my pool," Itachi said blandly.

"In case you hadn't noticed, there's a bunch of. . .things in your pool," he retorted.

"It's still my pool," Itachi said, "and they can get out of it, because it is not their pool."

Orochimaru followed him to the water's edge and rolled his eyes. "Good luck with that," he said.

Itachi said nothing, but dropped into the water. Almost instantly, there was at least a three foot radius around the Uchiha heir where there was no one. The older teen blinked. "How does he do that?" he asked, frowning in bewilderment.

He nearly went over the edge of the pool and into the water when someone barrelled into him. "Oy!" he shouted, whipping about. "Watch where you're -oh, it's you, Short Stuff."

Sasuke said nothing, and just stood there, blinking. Orochimaru frowned. "What's going on here anyway?" he asked.

"That goddamn Naruto invited everyone over for a pool party!" he barked, balling his fists and grinding his teeth together.

"Oooh, murderous rage," Orochimaru quipped. "It looks good on you."

"Shut up," the younger teen growled. "Have you seen that moron anywhere, anyway? I'm going to try drowning him."

"Actually, no, I haven't seen him. I'll let him know you're looking for him if I do," the older teen said with a cheerful smile, before he moved off.

He was glad he moved, because just seconds after his departure, a stampede of girls latched on to Sasuke, hellbent on mauling him or something equally as awful. He winced in sympathy as he watched Sasuke disappear in the mob.

"Poor boy," he said, pushing his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. "Don't women ever learn?"

"Hey there!" Naruto called to him, waving. He was standing over near the table with another boy, a brunet, who obviously liked his food a little too much.

"Hey," Orochimaru said, raising an eyebrow at the blond, "Sasuke's looking for you."

"Eh?" Naruto said, and glanced in the direction of the mob of screaming girls. They were very useful for keeping track of Sasuke, but also hazardous to Sasuke's health. "Aw, crap, not again!"

The blond dashed across the patio, switching from "cool guy" mode to "hero" mode in two point five seconds flat. Orochimaru marvelled at the speed of the transformation. He flopped down in one of the chairs and watched as the blond teen pried apart the girls to drag Sasuke from their midst.

The brunet standing at the table was watching too. "That's the third time he's had to do that today," he said, stuffing another piece of cheese into his mouth.

"Three times, eh?" Orochimaru asked. "How long have you guys been here?"

"Oh, maybe an hour," the boy said, turning his attention back to the snack table.

Naruto had peeled the fangirls off Sasuke and now, the Uchiha boy was trying to get the blond into the pool. "Just get in the pool so I can drown you!"

"Oh, so I save your ass, and this is the thanks I get?"

Orochimaru rolled his eyes. "Maturity, thy name is SasukeandNaruto."

"That's two names," Shikamaru commented, still not having moved from his chair, which was about three chairs over from the table.

"Oh, shut up," Orochimaru grumped.

Shikamaru gladly did so and went back to his cloud watching. Though, one supposes cloud watching is made rather difficult when there are no clouds in the sky.

A pink-haired girl and a blonde walked by, hand in hand. Orochimaru raised an eyebrow. "Well, there's something you don't see everyday," he said.

Shikamaru shrugged. He turned toward the table. "Ah, Choji, pass me my coke?"

"Sure," the teen at the table, Choji, replied, handing over a can that had been sitting on the tabletop.

Naruto and Sasuke were still fighting. Sasuke still wanted to drown Naruto. Naruto thought that he deserved a better reward for saving Sasuke. Orochimaru couldn't decided who had more valid points, but it was probably Sasuke. Naruto would win the argument, though, simply because he was even more bullheaded that Sasuke. Orochimaru wasn't sure how that was possible.

"I don't see how they can do this," Shikamaru drawled, "it's so troublesome."

"I hope they do it again next year!" Choji cried. "It's so much fun!"

"You're only here for the food," Shikamaru told him.

"I hope they don't have another pool party," Orochimaru grumbled and sunk lower into his chair.

He supposed he'd have to wait and see, though, because, after all, next year was a whole new year.

The End


End file.
